PETE 
COW  PUNCHER 


JOSEPH  B.AMES 


Ir 


2    1P09 


r^ 

.  and   the  promotior, 


APOSTLESHIP  OF  THE  SEA 

413  90.  BEACON  STREET 

SAN  PEDRO,    -    -    CALIFORNIA 

OBJECT;  The  fpintuai  moral  and  social 

*sjfare  of  Catholic  seafaren  throughout 

dbe  world,  by  uniting  them  in  a  bond  of 

kibwahip,  and  the  promotion  of  their  a* 

!<*iou»  and  social  interests. 


PETE, 


PETE, 
COW-PUNCHER 

A  STORY  OF  THE   TEXAS  PLAINS 


BY 


JOSEPH    B.  AMES 

Author  of  "THE  TREASURE  OF  THK  CANYON 


ILLUSTRATED    BY    VICTOR    PERARD 


Copyright,  1908, 

By 
HENRY  HOLT  AND  COMPANY 


Published  October,  1908 


SRLg  , 

mi 


TO 

ARTHUR   COPPINGER 
THE  ORIGINAL  "PETE" 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.    TEXAS i 

II.    LOADING  A  FREIGHT 13 

III.  CAUGHT  WITH  A  CATCH  ROPE         ...      26 

IV.  RITA  BLANCA 35 

V.    TAKEN  ON     .         , 46 

VI.  DONALD  TAKES  A  NEW  NAME        ...      58 

VII.  POLOMA  CAMP        .        .                 .        .        .68 

VIII.  PRINCIPALLY  CALVES       .        »        .        .        .80 

IX.    CLAUDE  BAGS  SNIPE 94 

X.  FIGHTING  A  PRAIRIE  FIRE      ....     104 

XI.    SAVED  BY  A  CAYUSE 119 

XII.    THE  MISSING  HORSES 127 

XIII.  CAUGHT  IN  A  NORTHWESTER   ....     136 

XIV.  PETE  FINDS  THE  HORSE  THIEVES    .        .        .     144 
XV.    THE  PURSUIT 153 

XVI.  THE  HUT  IN  THE  CANYON    .        .        .        .163 

XVII.  THE  CRACK  IN  THE  WALL      .        .        .        .172 

XVIII.    RIDING  BRONCS 183 

XIX.  THE  INVASION  OF  DALHART    ....     194 

XX.    THE  ROUND-UP 206 

XXI.    ON  TRAIL 217 

XXII.  THE  MAN  WITH  THE  SCAR      .        .        .        .    225 
v 


vi  Contents 

CHAPTER  PACK 

XXIII.  FRECKLES  INTERVENES 235 

XXIV.  BRANDING 249 

XXV.  HAZING  HEINY      .        .        .        .        .        .263 

XXVI.  SLICKERS  AND  SANDBURRS      ....    273 

XXVH.*~THE  STAMPEDE 284 

XXVIII.    THE  UNEXPECTED 296 

XXIX.  EXPLANATIONS        .        .        .        .        .        .308 

XXX.  "S'LoNG"      ........    318 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

PETE Frontispiece 

FIGHTING  A  PRAIRIE  FIRE 112 

A  MOMENT  LATER  HE  WAS  FLOUNDERING    UP  TO  His 

CHIN 242 

THE  CATTLE  WERE  ALMOST    UPON  THEM      .        .        .298 


PETE,  COW-PUNCHER 

CHAPTER  I 
TEXAS 

"/^HANNING!"  the  brakeman  sang  out  mo- 
^^  notonously.    "All  out  for  Charming!" 
The  whistle  shrieked ;  the  train  slowed  down,  and 
with  a  final  jerk  stopped  in  front  of  a  dilapidated 
shed  some  twelve  feet  by  eight,  which  looked  as 
though  it  had  made  desperate  efforts  to  live  up  to 
the  title  painted  over  the  doorway,  and  had  finally 
given  it  up  in  despair. 

Donald  Harrington  hesitated  an  instant  on  the 
bottom  step  of  the  car,  but  the  train  was  already  in 
motion  again,  so  that  he  had  to  jump  off  to  avoid 
being  carried  along  with  it. 

For  a  few  minutes  he  stood  still  watching  the 
train  swaying  along  the  uneven  track,  and  gradually 
growing  smaller  and  more  indistinct  as  it  puffed  its 
way  across  the  brown  prairie.  It  was  the  only 


2  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

moving  thing  in  sight  on  the  monotonous  flat  ex- 
panse, and  seemed  to  possess  a  strange  fascination 
for  the  young  fellow.  At  length,  when  it  had 
dwindled  to  a  mere  speck,  he  drew  a  long  breath  and 
looked  about  him  with  a  puzzled  frown  on  his 
face. 

"  This  is  the  station,  all  right,"  he  said  as  his 
eyes  fell  on  the  dingy  sign.  "But  I  don't  see  any- 
thing else.  I  wonder  where  Channing  is  ?  " 

He  peered  into  the  doorway  but  there  was  no  one 
there  to  enlighten  him.  The  room  was  bare  and 
empty,  a  single  pine  bench  along  one  side  being  the 
only  article  of  furniture.  Then  suddenly,  as  he 
stood  there,  a  very  unpleasant  thought  struck  him. 

"  Jimminy!  I  hope  that  fellow  wasn't  stringing 
me,"  he  said  aloud.  "  That  would  be  simply  the 
limit.  I  don't  believe  he  could  have  been,  though," 
he  added  as  he  turned  away  from  the  doorway  and 
walked  around  the  building.  "  He  had  the  names 
and  everything  down  too  fine,  and  anyway  there 
wasn't  any  object." 

A  rough  trail  ran  along  the  back  of  the  station 
which  turned  sharply  to  the  right  a  couple  of  hun- 


Texas  3 

dred  yards  below  and  disappeared  over  a  slight  rise 
of  ground.  In  the  mud  were  the  freshly  made 
tracks  of  wagon-wheels  mingled  with  the  prints  of 
mules,  and  at  the  sight  of  them  Donald's  spirits  at 
once  began  to  rise. 

"Well,  that's  something,"  he  said  to  himself. 
"  They  must  lead  somewhere,  and  if  I  follow  them 
far  enough  I'll  strike  somebody  that  can  answer 
questions." 

Without  any  delay  he  turned  up  his  trousers,  and 
picking  up  his  bag,  set  out  through  the  mud. 

In  appearance  Donald  Harrington  was  decidedly 
not  in  keeping  with  his  surroundings.  Slight  but 
well  knit  in  build;  fair-haired  and  fair-complex- 
ioned;  there  was  about  him  that  indefinite  air  of 
breeding  so  easy  to  see  and  so  hard  to  define.  A 
straight  nose;  clean-cut  resolute  mouth,  and  square 
determined  chin,  with  a  pair  of  pleasant  gray  eyes, 
honest  in  their  directness;  made  up  a  face  which 
was  extremely  attractive.  The  well-fitting  suit  of 
dark  gray ;  black  derby  of  the  latest  shape ;  the  tan 
covert  coat  on  his  arm :  even  the  heavy  pigskin  bag 
he  carried,  while  they  would  all  have  passed  unno- 


4  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

ticed  in  the  crowded  streets  of  an  Eastern  city, 
looked  decidedly  out  of  place  on  that  lonely,  muddy 
track  across  the  Texas  sandhills. 

Nothing  of  this  sort  seemed  to  be  passing  through 
Donald's  mind  as  he  strode  along  with  an  easy, 
swinging  gait ;  his  eyes  glancing  keenly  to  right  and 
left,  searching  for  some  welcome  signs  of  life,  but 
his  thoughts  were  plainly  far  away. 

He  was,  in  fact,  recalling  a  scene  which  had  taken 
place  little  more  than  a  week  ago  between  his  father 
and  himself  at  his  home  on  Long  Island,  and  won- 
dering whether  the  attitude  he  had  taken  at  that 
time  had  been  right.  In  the  heat  of  the 
discussion  he  had  had  no  doubt  of  it,  but 
several  times  since  then  he  had  been  troubled 
with  vague  misgivings.  He  hated  to  be  wrong,  and 
especially  in  a  case  like  this  when  so  much  depended 
on  it;  but  right  or  wrong,  it  was  too  late  to  change 
now.  He  had  made  his  bed  and  must  lie  on  it ;  the 
point  was  to  make  that  bed  as  comfortable  as  pos- 
sible. 

The  trouble  had  arisen  from  comparatively  trivial 
beginnings.  Donald  had  never  been  fond  of  study. 


Texas  5 

He  was  clever  enough  when  he  chose  to  apply  him- 
self, but  his  devotion  to  athletics  of  all  kinds  and  out- 
of-door  life  generally,  had  made  him  shirk  school 
at  every  opportunity.  A  year's  convalescence  from 
typhoid  when  he  was  fifteen  had  thrown  him  still 
further  back  and  made  him  totally  indifferent  as 
to  how  he  got  on. 

Mr.  Harrington,  himself  a  graduate  of  Yale,  had 
always  taken  it  for  granted  that  his  son  would 
follow  in  his  footsteps.  He  was  a  successful  man, 
the  guiding  spirit  of  a  number  of  great  enterprises, 
but  unfortunately  one  who  could  never  wholly  lay 
aside  the  cares  and  perplexities  of  business  and 
spend  a  certain  amount  of  his  time  in  really  learning 
to  know  his  two  children.  As  it  was  he  was  as 
ignorant  of  their  likes  and  dislikes,  their  hopes  and 
plans,  their  capabilities  and  limitations,  as  he  was 
of  the  habits  of  mind  of  one  of  his  office  boys,  and 
consequently  he  saw  nothing  of  the  way  things  were 
going  with  Donald  until  it  was  too  late,  and  the 
latter  astounded  him  one  day  by  asking  his  permis- 
sion to  go  into  business. 

The  inevitable  discussion  terminated  in  a  quarrel. 


6  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

The  older  man  could  not  understand  how  any  son 
of  his  could  lack  the  brains  or  the  ambition  to  enter 
college.  He  was  quite  unable  to  see  things  from 
Donald's  point  of  view,  and  he  expressed  his  dis- 
belief in  the  latter's  ability  to  earn  his  bread,  with 
bitterness  and  sarcasm. 

Stung  to  the  quick  by  his  father's  intolerance 
and  lack  of  sympathy,  Donald  at  once  declared  that 
he  would  show  him  that  he  was  perfectly  able  to 
take  care  of  himself  in  his  own  way  without  help 
from  any  one,  and  without  the  assistance  of  a  col- 
lege education.  One  word  led  to  another,  with  the 
result  that  the  boy  left  the  house  in  a  white  heat, 
only  taking  time  to  say  good-by  to  his  sister  Sally, 
who  was  nearly  heart-broken  at  his  departure. 

He  at  once  drew  what  money  he  had — some 
$300 — from  the  bank,  and  hurrying  to  New  York, 
took  the  first  train  to  Chicago.  Why  Chicago,  it 
would  have  been  difficult  to  say.  Somewhere  in 
his  mind  was  a  vague  idea  that  he  could  more  easily 
find  something  to  do  in  the  West;  but  he  was  so 
excited  that  he  scarcely  realized  what  he  was  doing. 
His  one  thought  was  to  get  away  from  New  York 


Texas  7 

and  it  was  several  hours  after  the  train  started  be- 
fore he  began  to  plan  in  earnest. 

Then,  as  he  sat  alone  in  the  little  compartment 
at  the  end  of  the  car,  he  began  to  take  stock  of  his 
accomplishments. 

He  could  play  baseball  and  football,  sail  a  boat, 
and  was  perfectly  at  home  in  the  water.  He  was 
a  good  shot  with  rifle  and  shot  gun,  could  box,  a 
little,  and  had  been  able  to  ride  a  horse  as  long  as 
he  could  remember.  But  he  was  wretched  at  fig- 
ures, and  wrote  a  hand  which  his  teacher  had  often 
said  would  disgrace  a  child  of  ten. 

Somehow,  as  he  considered  all  this,  the  prospect 
did  not  seem  so  bright.  It  was  very  pleasant  to  be 
able  to  put  up  a  good  game  of  football  or  to  sail  a 
boat,  but  there  was  little  practical  benefit  to  be 
gained  by  it.  He  was  sensible  enough  to  realize 
that  he  wasn't  cut  out  for  a  hunter  or  trapper — 
even  if  such  individuals  still  existed,  and  gained  a 
living  by  their  guns;  of  which  he  had  vague  doubts. 
It  would  have  been  much  better  if  he  had  been  good 
at  mathematics  and  could  write  decently,  but  on  the 
whole  he  was  shamelessly  glad  that  he  couldn't. 


8  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

"  That  would  mean  spending  the  whole  day  at  a 
desk,"  he  said  to  himself.  "When  I'd  be  perfectly 
crazy  for  a  sail  or  a  gallop."  Then  a  brilliant  idea 
struck  him.  "  I  wonder  why  I  couldn't  be  a  cow- 
boy." 

"  Thinking  of  trying  cow-punching  ?  "  said  a 
voice. 

Donald  looked  up  with  a  start.  A  man  had  just 
seated  himself  in  the  chair  opposite  and  was  light- 
ing a  cigar. 

"  Was  I  talking  out  loud  ?  "  he  asked  with  a  smile. 
"  I  didn't  mean  to." 

"  You  sure  was,"  said  the  stranger.  "  Reckon 
you  were  doing  some  tall  thinking." 

He  was  a  tall,  powerfully  built  man  of  some  forty 
years,  carelessly  dressed  in  clothes  which,  though  of 
good  material,  fitted  him  badly.  His  face,  brown  as 
a  berry  and  seamed  with  a  network  of  tiny  wrinkles, 
was  a  strong  one,  and  as  he  sat  slowly  puffing  his 
cigar  and  looking  at  Donald  with  a  slightly  quiz- 
zical expression  in  his  pleasant  brown  eyes,  the  boy 
suddenly  made  up  his  mind. 

"  I  was  wondering  whether  I  could  do  it,"  he  said. 


Texas  9 

"  I've  got  to  do  something  to  earn  my  living  and 
I'm  no  good  at  inside  work.  Do  you  know  any- 
thing about  cow-punching?  " 

The  man's  eyes  twinkled  a  little. 

"  Reckon  I  ought  to,"  he  answered.  "  I've  done 
considerable  of  it  in  my  time." 

"  Is  it  hard  to  learn  ?  Could  I  do  it,  do  you 
think  ?  "  Donald  asked  eagerly. 

"  That  depends ;  can  you  ride  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  I  was  brought  up  with  horses." 

"  That's  all  right  so  far  as  it  goes,  but  it  ain't  the 
kind  of  riding  you've  been  used  to.  If  you're 
thrown  before  your  leg  is  hardly  over  the  saddle, 
have  you  got  the  grit  to  get  up  and  try  it  again  ? 
Could  you  work  with  a  branding  iron  till  your  arms 
feel  like  they  would  drop  off  and  every  bone  in 
your  body  aches,  and  then  turn  to  and  do  a  spell 
more? 

"  There  ain't  any  cinch  about  it :  it's  just  plain 
hard  work  most  of  the  time  with  precious  little  fun. 
If  you've  got  muscle  and  endurance  and  grit,  there 
ain't  any  reason  why  you  shouldn't  do  as  well  as  the 
next  man;  if  you  haven't,  you'd  better  not  start." 


io  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

"  I'm  not  afraid  of  that  kind  of  work,"  Donald 
said.  "  It's  being  cooped  up  in  an  office  I  can't 
stand." 

There  was  a  few  minutes'  pause  and  then  the  man 
went  on. 

"  I  don't  see  why  you  shouldn't  try  it ;  but  there's 
one  thing  certain:  if  you  ain't  got  to  earn  your 
living,  there's  no  use  of  your  starting  in.  If  you've 
got  money,  or  jest  have  to  write  home  to  get  it, 
you'll  be  quittin'  the  first  week." 

"  I  have  a  little  money,"  Donald  said.  "  But  when 
that's  gone  the  only  way  I  can  get  any  more  is  to 
saw  wood  or  dig  ditches,  and  I  don't  believe  cow- 
punching  is  any  worse  than  that.  I'd  honestly  like 
to  try  it  if  you  think  I'd  make  good?  " 

"  No  reason  why  you  shouldn't  if  you  stick  to  it," 
the  other  said,  and  then  he  added :  "  I'll  tell  you 
what  I'll  do.  I'll  give  you  the  name  of  the  boss  of 
a  ranch  I  used  to  work  on  down  in  Texas  and  I 
reckon  he'll  put  you  to  work.  Got  a  piece  of 
paper  ?  " 

Donald  gave  him  an  envelope,  and  taking  out  a 
pencil,  he  wrote  a  few  words  on  the  back. 


Texas  1 1 

"  There  you  are,  youngster,"  he  said,  handing  it 
to  him.  "  That'll  fix  you  up.  Throw  a  bluff  into 
him  that  you  can  do  anything  going.  There's  noth- 
ing like  a  good  bluff,  if  you  work  it  right.  What? 
this  Pittsburg  already  ?  "  he  added,  peering  out  as 
the  train  began  to  slow  down.  "  It  sure  is.  Well, 
good-by,  youngster.  Keep  a  stiff  upper  lip  and 
don't  get  discouraged,  and  you'll  do  all  right. 
Maybe  I'll  see  you  again  some  day." 

He  gave  Donald's  hand  a  clasp  that  nearly  broke 
the  bones,  and  almost  before  the  boy  could  realize 
it  he  was  gone,  leaving  as  the  only  visible  sign  of 
his  presence  a  few  words  scrawled  on  the  back  of 
an  envelope. 

"  Bob  Edwards,  Boss  X  L  outfit.  Headquarters : 
Channing,  Texas." 

Donald  read  this  over  several  times  and  then  put 
it  into  his  pocket.  As  he  did  so,  a  thought  suddenly 
struck  him. 

"  The  deuce !  "  he  burst  out.  "  I  never  even  asked 
him  his  name.  What  a  perfect  fool  I  am." 

But  it  was  too  late  now,  so  after  a  few  minutes  of 
vain  regret  he  went  back  to  his  berth  and  turned  in. 


12  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

As  soon  as  he  had  registered  at  the  Auditorium 
in  Chicago  next  day,  Donald  hunted  up  an  atlas  and 
proceeded  to  locate  Channing.  After  some  diffi- 
culty he  found  it  in  the  Panhandle  of  Texas  on  the 
Fort  Worth  &  Denver  Railroad,  and  then  ensued  a 
search  through  time  tables  and  many  consultations 
with  the  hotel  clerk  as  to  the  best  way  of  getting 
there. 

He  finally  decided  to  go  to  Kansas  City  and 
from  there  over  the  Rock  Island  to  Dalhart,  Texas, 
which  was  only  about  thirty  miles  from  Channing. 

He  left  Chicago  early  the  next  morning,  and 
some  thirty-six  hours  later  found  him  at  the  end 
of  the  long  tiresome  ride,  cramped  and  uncom- 
fortable, and  proportionately  rejoiced  when  the 
brakeman  announced  that  the  next  stop  would  be 
Channing. 


CHAPTER  II 
LOADING  A  FREIGHT 

I  "VONALD  walked  briskly  along  for  fifteen  or 
•**-^  twenty  minutes  without  seeing  a  sign  of  a 
house.  The  trail  was  rough  and  uneven,  and 
somehow  it  had  the  appearance  of  not  leading  any- 
where. Had  it  not  been  for  the  wagon  tracks  he 
would  have  given  it  up  and  gone  back  to  the  station, 
but  these  looked  so  fresh  that  he  felt  sure  the  wagon 
could  not  be  far  ahead,  and  he  made  up  his  mind  to 
find  it  if  it  took  all  night. 

A  few  straggling  mesquite  bushes  mingled  with 
tufts  of  soap-weed  were  the  only  growing  things  in 
sight,  but  a  quarter  of  a  mile  ahead  he  noticed  a 
stretch  of  green  which  soon  resolved  itself  into  a 
row  of  cottonwoods  growing  along  the  bank  of  a 
shallow  stream. 

The  trail  led  directly  through  these,  and  as  he 
13 


14  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

came  out  on  the  other  side  he  found  himself  in 
Channing. 

A  long,  low,  rambling  building  of  adobe  dom- 
inated the  foreground.  It  seemed  to  be  in  the  last 
stages  of  decay ;  the  roof  was  sagged  and  sunken  in 
a  series  of  curves ;  some  of  the  heavy  oaken  shutters 
were  gone,  while  others  hung  disconsolate  on  one 
hinge,  failing  to  hide  the  gaping  holes,  stuffed  with 
every  imaginable  article  of  apparel.  At  the  exposed 
corners  the  adobe  was  crumbled  and  broken,  but 
over  the  tumbledown  porch  hung  the  weather- 
beaten  sign,  The  Exchange  Hotel,  which  made  up 
for  all  other  shortcomings. 

Close  to  it  a  large,  square  adobe  structure  simply 
proclaimed  itself  the  Store.  Beyond,  along  the 
trail,  straggled  half  a  dozen  houses  of  adobe  or 
boards.  That  was  all.  Not  a  sign  of  the  ranch 
anywhere,  and  with  a  sinking  heart  Donald  won- 
dered for  the  second  time  whether  he  had  been 
fooled  or  not. 

In  front  of  the  store  stood  the  wagon  whose 
tracks  he  had  been  following,  and  he  walked  over  to 
look  at  it.  It  was  quite  the  strangest  combination  he 


Loading  a  Freight  15 

had  ever  seen,  and  consisted,  not  of  a  single  wagon, 
but  of  four,  hitched  together  one  behind  the  other, 
and  harnessed  to  it  were  sixteen  mules. 

While  he  stood  there  examining  it,  a  man  strolled 
out  rolling  a  cigarette,  and  at  the  sight  of  him, 
Donald  suddenly  became  interested,  for  he  was  a 
cowboy — a  real  cowboy,  and  the  first  one  the 
boy  had  ever  seen.  Chaps,  boots,  Stetson;  every- 
thing was  complete,  even  to  the  silk  handkerchief 
knotted  carelessly  around  his  neck. 

"  Wai,  stranger,"  he  said  lazily,  lighting  his 
cigarette.  "  Like  my  outfit  ?  " 

"  I  was  wondering  what  it  was  for,"  Donald  said 
as  he  walked  around  the  rear  wagon.  "  I  never 
saw  anything  like  it  before." 

"  Kind  uh  green,  ain't  yuh  ? "  the  other  said 
mildly.  "  That's  a  freight." 

Donald  flushed  a  little. 

"  I  guess  I  am  green,"  he  answered.  "  I've  just 
come  from  the  East.  I  don't  even  know  what  you 
mean  by  a  freight." 

The  cowboy  grinned  at  this  naive  confession. 

"Wai,"   he  said.     "It's  jest  a   freight;  that's 


1 6  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

about  as  good  as  anything  I  c'n  tell  yuh.  We  use 
it  t'  haul  supplies  t'  th'  ranch,  an'  so  forth." 

"  Oh,  I  see,"  Donald  said,  interested.  "  Like  a 
freight  train,  only  with  mules;  and  you  don't  have 
to  have  a  driver  for  each  wagon." 

"Egg-sackly.  Hit  th'  bull's  eye  th'  first 
crack." 

There  was  silence  for  a  moment,  and  then  the 
stranger  walked  over  to  the  front  wagon  and  stuck 
a  small  package  under  the  seat. 

"  Come  in  on  th'  down  train?  "  he  asked  casually, 
leaning  against  one  wheel. 

"  Yes ;  I  came  straight  through  from  Chicago," 
Donald  answered.  "  I  was  thinking  I  might  get  a 
job  cow-punching." 

•* 

"Reckon  there  ain't  nothin'  t'  prevent  if  yuh  fill 
th'  requirements." 

"  That's  the  trouble;  I  can't,"  Donald  said.  "  I 
don't  know  anything  about  cow-punching,  but  a 
man  I  met  on  the  train  gave  me  the  name  of  a 
ranch — the  X  L  ranch — and  said  I  could  most 
likely  get  a  job  there.  Can  you  tell  me  where  I  can 
locate  it?" 


Loading  a  Freight  17 

"  I  sure  can,"  the  other  said  composedly ;  "  that's 
my  outfit." 

"  Yours !  "  Donald  exclaimed.  "  Are  you  Bob 
Edwards?" 

"  Nope;  he's  th'  wagon  boss.  He's  back  at  Rita 
Blanca." 

"  I  certainly  am  glad  to  see  you,"  Donald  said 
impulsively.  "  I  was  beginning  to  think  that  fellow 
was  stringing  me  and  that  there  wasn't  any  such 
place  around  here.  How  far  off  is  it  ?  " 

"  Oh,  it  ain't  far :  'bout  thirty-five  miles." 

"Thirty-five  miles,"  Donald  gasped.  "Christ- 
mas !  How  am  I  going  to  get  there?  " 

"Yuh'll  git  there  all  right ;  I'm  going  back  t'mor- 
row,  an'  yuh  c'n  come  along  if  yuh  want  to.  Let's 
go  in  an'  git  some  grub." 

At  the  mention  of  food  Donald  realized  that  he 
was  ravenously  hungry,  and  he  was  very  glad  to 
follow  his  new  friend  over  to  the  hotel  and  into  the 
dining-room  where,  at  one  end  of  a  long  wooden 
table,  a  tall,  long-limbed  Texan,  his'  sleeves  rolled 
up  and  trousers  tucked  into  the  tops  of  heavy  cow- 
hide boots,  was  just  placing  some  smoking  dishes. 


1 8  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

"  It  ain't  often  yuh  c'n  git  s'uthin'  hot  this  time 
uh  day,"  his  companion  remarked  as  they  sat  down 
on  a  wooden  bench  which  ran  along  the  side  of  the 
table.  "  But  Sam  here  is  a  special  friend  uh  mine 
an'  most  gen'ally  does  th'  right  thing.  What  yuh 
givin'  us  t'day,  Sam ;  same  old  thing  ?  " 

"  Yep,"  Sam  answered.  "  You  don't  git  much 
variety  in  this  joint." 

The  "  same  old  thing  "  was  bean  soup,  followed 
by  wild  turkey,  fried  potatoes,  and  coffee;  and 
Donald  thought  he  had  never  tasted  anything  so 
good  in  his  life.  He  ate  and  ate,  and  only  stopped 
when  he  was  too  ashamed  to  eat  anything  more. 
His  companion  eyed  him  approvingly. 

"  Yuh  sure  are  good  with  th'  knife,"  he  re- 
marked, as  he  leisurely  picked  his  teeth.  "  Yuh  eat 
like  yuh  enjoyed  it." 

"  I  do,"  Donald  said,  laughing.  "  I  haven't  had  a 
good  meal  since  I  left  Kansas  City,  and  I  was 
nearly  starved." 

As  they  went  out  Donald  stopped  at  the 
bar. 

"How  much  do  I  owe  you?"  he  asked  of  the 


Loading  a  Freight  19 

proprietor,  who  sat  with  his  chair  tilted  up  and  his 
feet  on  the  bar,  reading  a  paper. 

"  He  a  cow-puncher,  Bill  ?  "  the  man  asked. 

"  Sure  thing,"  the  cowboy  answered.  "  Jest 
comin'  back  t'  th'  outfit." 

"  Two  bits,  then." 

There  was  a  blank  look  in  Donald's  face,  for  he 
hadn't  the  least  idea  how  much  "  two  bits  "  was. 
However,  he  pulled  out  a  two-dollar  bill,  trusting  to 
luck  that  it  would  be  enough,  and  told  the  proprietor 
to  take  them  both  out  of  that.  When  he  got  his 
change,  he  discovered  that  the  meals  had  cost 
twenty-five  cents  each. 

"  Wai,  supposin'  we  go  out  t'  th'  corral,"  Bill 
said  as  they  strolled  out  on  the  porch.  "  Th'  X  Ls 
have  a  corral  an'  bunk  house  where  we  stay  when 
we're  in  town,"  he  explained,  "  an'  I  reckon  we 
might  find  Dutch  Jake  there.  He  left  th'  outfit 
about  a  week  ago  an'  said  he  was  goin'  t'  stop  a 
while  in  Channing." 

Donald  climbed  up  on  the  seat  with  Bill,  and 
when  the  latter  started  the  mules  he  discovered 
that  they  were  driven  with  only  one  line — a  jerk 


2O  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

line,  as  Bill  called  it.  A  quick  jerk  made  them  turn 
to  the  left  and  a  steady  pull  to  the  right. 

The  trail  went  straight  on  past  the  last  house  and 
then  turned  sharply  to  the  left  across  the  sand  hills. 

"  Do  you  think  Bob  Edwards  will  give  me  a 
job  ?  "  Donald  asked  suddenly. 

"  Can't  say,"  Bill  returned,  puffing  on  his  ciga- 
rette. "  He  sure  won't  if  yuh  ain't  got  an  outfit." 

"  What's  that  ?  "  Donald  asked  curiously. 

"  Oh,  a  saddle,  bed,  slicker,  boots ;  an'  some 
clothes  that  ain't  as  swell  as  them  yuh  have  on,"  he 
added,  his  brown  eyes  twinkling  a  little. 

"  These  things  aren't  much  good  for  riding  in, 
are  they  ?  "  Donald  remarked  in  disgust.  "  Where 
can  I  get  an  outfit  ?  " 

"  At  th'  store,  I  reckon ;  all  except  th'  saddle  an' 
boots.  We  'most  generally  gits  them  at  Pueblo  or 
Cheyenne.  S'pose  yuh  c'n  ride?  " 

"  I  always  have  since  I  was  a  kid.  I  don't  be- 
lieve I  could  stay  on  these  bucking  horses  you  have 
out  here,  though." 

"  That  don't  cut  no  ice.  They  ain't  all  like  that, 
an*  yuh  won't  have  t'  ride  broncs  'till  spring.  Yuh 


Loading  a  Freight  21 

want  t'  throw  a  bluff  into  Bob  an'  tell  him  yuh've 
branded  cattle  an'  c'n  ride  broncs,  an'  all  that.  He'll 
most  likely  take  yuh  on,  then." 

"  Suppose  he  calls  my  bluff  and  wants  me  to  ride 
a  bronc." 

"Oh,  yuh'll  have  t'  take  th'  chance,"  Bill  re- 
marked, easily.  "  Wai,  here  we  are." 

In  front  of  them  was  a  long,  low,  flat-roofed 
building  of  adobe  with  a  door  at  one  end  and  several 
windows  along  one  side.  A  couple  of  hundred 
yards  beyond  was  another  building,  considerably 
larger  and  more  solidly  built  and  without  windows ; 
while  still  further  on  showed  the  high  board  fence 
of  a  corral. 

As  they  came  up  another  cowboy  appeared  in  the 
doorway,  yawning. 

"  Hello,  Jake,"  Bill  said.     "  Takin'  things  easy  ?  " 

"  Yuh  bet,"  Jake  answered.  "  Bin  tryin'  t'  catch 
up  on  th'  sleep  I  lost  last  week.  Any  news  ?  " 

"  Nothin'  much.  I  jest  come  in  fur  a  load  uh 
salt." 

"  Wai,  it's  blamed  dull  around  here.  Reckon  I'll 
make  tracks  t'morrow  or  next  day." 


22  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

"  Where  yuh  goin'  this  time?    South  Ranch?  " 

"  No,  sir-ee.  Think  I'll  go  over  t'  th'  Lazy  X's 
or  th'  J.  K's.  They  both  got  a  nice  outfit,  an'  there 
ain't  s'  much  work  on  a  small  ranch  as  a  big  one." 

"  Wai,  wish  yuh  luck,"  Bill  said.  "  Don't  s'pose 
yuh  want  t'  give  me  a  hand  with  that  salt  ?  " 

"Not  on  your  life!"  Jake  answered  with  con- 
siderably more  emphasis  than  he  had  hitherto  dis- 
played. "  I  ain't  workin'  fur  no  X.  L.  outfit  now, 
an'  m'  time's  too  valuable  t'  be  givin'  it  away  free 
gratis." 

"Suit  yourself,"  Bill  remarked.  "I  got  t'  git 
busy."  And  starting  the  mules,  he  drove  over  to  the 
larger  building  and  stopped  in  front  of  a  door  at  the 
far  end. 

"  Can't  I  help  you  load  the  salt  ?  "  Donald  asked 
as  he  jumped  down  and  went  to  help  Bill  unharness 
the  mules. 

"  Sure,  if  yuh  want  to,"  Bill  answered.  "  Glad 
t'  have  yuh.  It's  kind  of  dirty  work,  though." 
And  he  cast  a  doubtful  look  at  Donald's  immaculate 
appearance. 

"  Oh,  that  don't  matter,"  Donald  said.     "  I  can't 


Loading  a  Freight  23 

wear  these  clothes  at  the  ranch  anyway,  you 
said." 

"  Not  unless  yuh  want  t'  attract  more  notice  than 
'ud  be  healthy.  Yuh'd  most  likely  git  chapped." 

"Chapped:  how  do  you  mean?" 

Bill  grinned  broadly. 

"  Yuh  wait  an'  see.  Yuh'll  find  out  soon  enough 
if  you  stay  with  th'  outfit  any  time." 

By  this  time  the  mules  had  been  turned  into  the 
corral  and  Bill  opened  the  door  of  the  storehouse, 
showing  this  division  of  it  to  be  filled  with  big  lumps 
of  rock  salt,  heaped  up  in  piles  like  coal.  He  antici- 
pated the  inevitable  question  which  was  trembling 
on  Donald's  lips  and  told  him  that  the  salt  was 
spread  around  near  the  watering  places  all  over  the 
ranch  for  the  cattle.  Then  the  boy  shed  his  coat 
and  rolled  up  his  sleeves  and  they  began  to  tumble 
the  lumps  into  the  wagons. 

Donald  soon  discovered  that  it  was  no  easy  work. 
The  sharp  edges  of  the  chunks  scratched  his  hands, 
and  the  salt,  constantly  rubbing  into  these  scratches, 
made  them  smart  so  that  he  could  scarcely  bear  it. 
It  didn't  seem  to  bother  Bill,  though;  so  he  gritted 


24  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

his  teeth  and  made  no  comments.  He  was  deter- 
mined that  he  could  stand  it  as  long  as  the  other 
did;  but  he  was  never  so  glad  of  anything  in  his 
life  as  he  was  when  Bill  at  last  decided  that  they  had 
enough,  and  slamming  the  door,  started  back  to  the 
bunk  house,  carrying  on  his  shoulder  a  big  roll  of 
stuff  secured  by  straps  at  each  end  which  had  been 
in  the  wagon  and  about  which  Donald  had  been 
curious  every  time  he  had  noticed  it. 

It  proved  to  be  Bill's  bed,  for  when  he  threw  it 
down  on  the  floor  of  the*bunk  house  and  undid  the 
straps,  a  couple  of  pairs  of  blankets,  four  or  five 
comfortables — suggins,  the  cowboy  called  them — 
.  were  disclosed,  all  covered  and  protected  by  the 
voluminous  "  tarp,"  which  formed  the  outside  of 
the  roll. 

"  Where  are  the  bunks  ?  "  Donald  asked,  looking 
around  the  room,  which  was  perfectly  bare  of  furni- 
ture, save  for  a  few  boxes  and  a  nail  keg  or  two. 

"Bunks!  There  ain't  no  bunks,"  Bill  said,  a 
trifle  testily.  "  We  sleeps  on  our  beds  on  th'  floor, 
an*  I  reckon  Jake  an'  me'll  have  t'  put  ourn  t'gether 
t*  make  room  for  yuh." 


/ 


Loading  a  Freight  25 

Donald  protested  that  they  need  not  trouble;  that 
he  could  sleep  perfectly  well  on  the  floor;  but  Bill 
wouldn't  hear  of  it.  He  and  Jake  each  spread  three 
or  four  suggins  on  the  floor,  and  on  them  a  pair  of 
blankets;  then  another  pair  of  blankets  and  last  of 
all  more  suggins  on  top. 

It  was  now  nearly  dark  and  all  hands  were  pretty 
tired,  so  they  pulled  off  their  clothes  and  crawled  in 
between  the  blankets,  and  in  five  minutes  not  a 
sound  could  be  heard  save  the  deep  breathing  from 
three  healthy  pairs  of  lungs. 


CHAPTER  III 
CAUGHT  WITH  A  CATCH  ROPE 

IT  seemed  to  Donald  as  though  he  had  not  been 
asleep  five  minutes  when  he  was  awakened  by  a 
stentorian  voice  yelling : 

"  Say,  Kid,  wake  up ;  breakfast's  most  ready." 

He  awoke  with  a  start  and  jumped  up  to  dis- 
cover that  it  was  long  past  daylight  and  that  Bill 
was  standing  in  the  doorway  looking  down  on  him. 

"  Am  I  late?  "  he  asked,  as  he  began  pulling  on 
his  clothes.  "  Why  didn't  you  wake  me  before  ?  " 

"  'Cause  yuh  was  sleepin'  s'  beautiful,"  Bill  an- 
swered. "  Yuh  sure  was  cuttin'  it  off  in  chunks. 
Git  a  hustle  on  now ;  grub's  about  ready." 

It  took  Donald  just  about  three  minutes  to  jump 
into  his  clothes,  and  after  plunging  his  face  into  a 
basin  of  water  outside,  he  felt  quite  ready  for  break- 
fast. 

This  was  a  simple  repast  of  bacon,  potatoes,  and 

canned  corn,  washed  down  by  strong  coffee  with- 

26 


Caught  with  a  Catch  Rope         27 

out  milk,  all  of  which  Bill  had  cooked  over  a 
fire  outside,  and  the  three  of  them  did  it  ample 
justice. 

When  this  was  over  Bill  announced  his  intention 
of  going  to  town  for  a  couple  of  hours,  and  departed 
without  further  words,  leaving  Donald  to  the  tender 
mercies  of  Jake.  When  the  dishes  were  washed  up 
and  put  away,  the  latter  lit  a  cigarette  and,  picking 
up  a  rope  which  was  coiled  up  near  the  door,  strolled 
out  toward  the  corral.  As  they  walked  slowly  along 
Jake  amused  himself  by  idly  throwing  the  catch 
rope  over  mesquite  bushes,  fence  posts,  or  anything 
in  sight. 

Donald  watched  him  enviously. 

"  My !  I  wish  I  could  do  that,"  he  said  with  a  sigh, 
as  the  rope  slid  easily  over  one  of  the  posts  of  the 
corral.  "  I  suppose  it  takes  years  to  get  as  good  as 
you  are." 

"  Oh,  I  ain't  nothin'  extra,"  Jake  said,  coiling 
the  rope  again.  "All  yuh  need  is  practice;  an'  a 
good  rope,"  he  added  after  a  moment's  pause,  his 
eyes  fixed  dreamily  on  the  distant  horizon.  "  It's 
wonde'ful  what  a  difference  a  good  rope'll  make.  I 


28  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

got  one  here  I  wouldn't  sell  fur  no  money.  It's 
blamed  hard  t'  git  'em  jest  right." 

Donald  examined  it  with  much  interest.  It 
seemed  to  be  a  good  quality  of  manila  rope  with  a 
smooth,  silky  finish. 

"  Where  could  I  get  one  ?  "  he  asked.  "  At  the 
store?" 

"  Oh,  yes ;  yuh  kin  git  'em  there,  but  they  ain't 
t'  be  depended  on.  I  bought  this  in  Cheyenne  an' 
I  ain't  never  seen  one  as  good.  Got  two  of  'em  an' 
th'  mate  t'  this  is  up  t'  th'  house.  I  might  let  yuh 
have  that  if  I  c'n  find  it.  Yuh  try  your  hand  at 
this  one  an'  I'll  take  a  run  up  an'  see." 

He  handed  Donald  the  rope  and  started  back  to 
the  house,  leaving  the  boy  to  discover  in  an  ex- 
tremely short  space  of  time  that  the  art  of  roping 
was  even  more  difficult  than  he  had  imagined.  He 
had  watched  Jake's  movements  closely,  and  now  did 
his  best  to  imitate  them,  but  his  efforts  were  quite 
unsuccessful.  Apparently  he  either  left  out  some 
essential  feature  in  the  throwing  or  put  something 
in,  for  the  loop  went  anywhere  but  where  he  wanted 
it  to,  in  the  most  erratic  fashion.  He  was  still 


Caught  with  a  Catch  Rope          29 

struggling  with  it  when  Jake  returned,  after  quite 
fifteen  minutes'  absence,  but  carrying  a  coil  of  rope, 
neatly  tied  with  pink  string,  in  his  hand. 

"  Wai,  I  found  it,"  he  said.  "  Fur  a  while  I  was 
afeared  I  hadn't  brung  it  from  th'  ranch,  but  it  was 
put  away  s'  careful  I  had  hard  work  t'  locate  it." 

Donald's  eyes  sparkled. 

"  That's  bully,"  he  said.  "  I'd  like  awfully  to 
have  it  if  you're  sure  you  want  to  part  with  it." 

"  I  wouldn't  let  everybody  have  it,"  Jake  said. 
"  But  seein'  as  yuh're  a  friend  uh  Bill's,  I  don't 
mind  helpin'  yuh  out.  It  cost  me  two  dollars,  but 
yuh  c'n  have  it  fur  a  dollar  an'  a  half." 

"  That  certainly  seems  cheap  for  a  good  rope," 
Donald  said,  taking  out  the  money.  Then,  as  he 
looked  up,  he  noticed  a  faint  passing  shadow  of 
regret  flit  across  Jake's  weather-beaten  countenance. 

"Are  you  sure  you  want  to  sell  it  to  me?"  he 
asked.  "  Maybe  you  can  use  it  yourself." 

"  No ;  oh  no,"  Jake  said,  hastily  putting  the 
money  into  his  pocket.  "  This  one'll  last  me  quite 
some  time.  Wai,  s'pose  we  mosie  down  t'  town  an* 
see  if  there's  anythin'  doin'." 


30  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

"All  right,"  Donald  agreed.  "And  I  can  get 
some  of  my  outfit." 

He  put  the  rope  carefully  away  in  the  bunk  house 
and  they  set  out,  reaching  the  store  in  about  fifteen 
minutes.  Jake  went  on  to  the  hotel  while  Donald 
walked  inside,  where  he  found  Bill  seated  on  the 
counter  in  earnest  conversation  with  another  cow- 
boy. 

"  Hello,  Kid,"  Bill  drawled.  "  Come  in  fur  your 
outfit?  Say,  I've  got  a  great  chance  for  yuh.  M' 
pard  here,  Texas  Jack,  come  in  t'  git  a  saddle  he 
ordered  from  Pueblo,  an'  finds  word  here  t'  come 
home  t'  New  Orleans.  I  was  tellin'  him  about  yuh, 
an'  he  says  if  yuh  want  to,  yuh  c'n  have  th'  saddle, 
cause  he  won't  need  it  fur  a  month  or  so." 

"  Isn't  that  luck !  "  Donald  exclaimed.  "  That's 
the  thing  I  need  most  and  the  one  it  takes  the 
longest  time  to  get.  Did  it  come  all  right  ?  " 

"  Sure;  there  it  is,  over  there,"  Texas  Jack 
drawled,  jerking  his  thumb  over  his  shoulder. 
"  It's  a  daisy,  too." 

It  was  quite  unlike  any  saddle  which  Donald  had 
ever  ridden.  The  high  horn  and  prominent  cantle; 


Caught  with  a  Catch  Rope          31 

the  long  leather  skirts,  wide  stirrups  and  metal 
conchas,  with  their  dangling  saddle  strings,  were  all 
new  to  him,  but  it  certainly  looked  both  business- 
like and  comfortable,  and  was,  beyond  question, 
a  well-made  saddle. 

"  That's  a  beauty,"  he  said,  looking  up  from  his 
inspection.  "  What's  it  worth." 

"  Cost  fifty-five  dollars  an'  a  matter  uh  five  dol- 
lars express,"  Texas  said  promptly.  "  Yuh  c'n 
have  it  fur  that  if  yuh  want  t'  take  it;  cash  down." 

"  All  right ;  that's  a  bargain,"  Donald  said,  as  he 
took  out  his  bill  case.  "  There  you  are:  sixty  dol- 
lars, and  I'm  much  obliged  to  you." 

With  the  purchase  of  the  saddle,  Donald's  roll 
began  to  look  rather  slim.  Traveling  in  the  West 
is  anything  but  cheap,  and  he  decided  that  he  must 
go  slow  if  he  didn't  want  to  be  entirely  stranded. 

There  were  a  few  things,  however,  which  had 
to  be  bought,  and  they  were  soon  picked  out  with 
the  assistance  of  the  cowboys.  His  bed,  a  slicker — 
which  was  an  oilskin  with  long  skirts  to  wear  when 
riding  in  the  rain ;  wide-brimmed  Stetson ;  a  suit  of 
serviceable  corduroy;  a  pair  of  Dom  Pedro  spurs 


32  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

with  spur  leathers,  and  a  few  small  odds  and  ends. 
With  the  exception  of  the  clothes,  these  were  all 
packed  together  and  left  to  be  called  for  when  they 
started  for  the  ranch  early  that  afternoon.  The  suit 
he  took  with  him  to  camp  and  changed  into  it  as 
soon  as  he  got  there.  It  was  nearly  eleven  o'clock 
when  they  left  the  store  and  went  back  to  harness 
up  the  mules. 

Texas  Jack  came  along  with  them.  He  was  to 
take  the  2.30  train  for  Galveston,  and  intended 
leaving  his  saddle  at  the  bunk  house. 

When  they  reached  the  corral  he  caught  and  har- 
nessed the  mules,  while  Bill  packed  up  his  bed.  As 
the  latter  was  coming  out  of  the  bunk  house  he 
noticed  Donald  with  his  prized  catch  rope  under  his 
arm. 

"  What  yuh  got  there,  Kid  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  That's  a  rope  Jake  sold  me,"  Donald  answered ; 
and  added  with  pardonable  pride,  "  he  got  two  of 
them  in  Cheyenne  and  said  they  were  the  best  he 
ever  saw.  This  is  one  of  them." 

"  Let's  look  at  it,"  Bill  said,  tossing  his  bed  into 
the  wagon.  He  slowly  undid  the  pink  strings  with 


Caught  with  a  Catch   Rope          33 

which  it  was  so  neatly  tied,  and  shook  it  loose,  with 
a  very  curious  expression  on  his  face. 

"  How  much  d'  he  tax  yuh  for  it  ?  "  he  asked,  his 
lips  twitching. 

"A  dollar  and  a  half,"  Donald  answered 
promptly.  "  It  cost  two  dollars." 

"  Two  dollars !    Holy  Jimpin'  Jemimah !  " 

The  cowboy  exploded  in  a  roar  of  laughter  which 
was  echoed  by  another  from  behind,  where  Texas 
Jack  had  been  an  interested  listener  to  the  conver- 
sation; and  for  five  minutes  neither  of  them  could 
utter  a  word. 

Donald  looked  from  one  to  the  other  in  puzzled 
silence. 

"  You  fellows  seem  to  think  it's  a  big  joke,"  he 
said  at  last.  "  Isn't  it  worth  two  dollars  ?  " 

"  Not  so  's  yuh  c'd  notice  it,"  Bill  gasped.  "  Yuh 
c'd  'a'  got  a  good  one  fur  about  forty  cents,  but  this 
one  ain't  worth  four.  Somebody's  broke  it  in 
half  an'  throwed  it  away."  Then  he  collapsed 
again. 

"  Stung !  "  Donald  exclaimed.  "  I  certainly  am 
easy." 


34  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

"  Yuh  sure  are,  Kid,"  Texas  Jack  drawled. 
"  Yuh  ought  to  'a'  brung  a  guard-een  along." 

"  Yuh  didn't  have  t'  buy  no  rope,  anywhere,"  Bill 
sputtered,  choking  a  little.  "  Th'  outfit  furnishes 
ropes.  Gee!  yuh're  s'  green,  Kid,  it's  refreshin'  t' 
have  yuh  around  after  lookin'  at  sand  hills  all  day." 

The  incident  seemed  to  furnish  no  end  of  amuse- 
ment to  the  two  men  all  the  way  back  to  town,  and 
every  once  in  a  while  they  burst  into  shouts  of 
laughter,  as  some  fresh  point  about  it  struck  them. 
They  kept  a  sharp  lookout  for  Jake,  but  that  astute 
individual  seemed  to  have  made  himself  scarce,  for 
there  was  nothing  of  him  to  be  seen. 

Picking  up  Donald's  belongings  at  the  store,  they 
went  on  to  the  hotel,  where  they  had  dinner.  This 
was  practically  a  repetition  of  the  meal  of  the  day 
before,  and  Donald  enjoyed  it  quite  as  much. 
When  they  were  through  they  lounged  about, 
smoking  and  talking,  until  the  arrival  of  the  mail 
from  Galveston  and  Fort  Worth,  and  when  this  had 
been  sorted  they  got  into  the  wagon  and  started  off 
down  the  trail. 

With  a  brief  farewell,  Texas  Jack  left  them  at  the 
station,  and  they  jolted  on  alone  over  the  prairie. 


CHAPTER  IV 
RITA  BLANCA 

OON  after  leaving  the  station,  the  trail  turned 
due  west  and  a  couple  of  miles  beyond  they 
came  to  the  wire  fence  which,  Donald  learned,  sur- 
rounded the  entire  X  L  ranch,  which  comprised  in 
all  nearly  a  million  acres. 

The  country  was  very  flat,  and  to  Donald's  unac- 
customed eye,  it  looked  extremely  barren.  Here 
and  there  were  clumps  and  patches  of  tough,  wiry 
buffalo  grass;  a  few  mesquite  bushes  grew  about 
and  there  was  plenty  of  bristling  soap-weed:  but 
there  was  also  a  great  deal  of  sand,  and  the  whole 
picture  was  quite  unlike  the  mental  one  he  had 
formed  of  the  rolling,  grass-covered  prairies. 

The  scenery  was  monotonously  the  same  for  a 
couple  of  hours,  and  then  Donald  could  see  ahead  of 
them  a  wide  break  in  the  prairie  as  though  it  had 
been  cleft  with  a  great  knife.  The  trail  ran  straight 

35 


36  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

to  the  edge  of  this  and  disappeared,  and  as  they 
drew  nearer  he  wondered  what  sort  of  a  place  they 
were  coming  to. 

Presently  they  entered  a  small,  canyon-like  open- 
ing, worn  and  eroded  like  the  bed  of  a  stream  gone 
dry.  The  walls  on  either  side  were  of  clay  in 
variegated  colors:  purple,  yellow,  and  dark  red, 
with  here  and  there  a  mass  of  weathered  sandstone 
jutting  out. 

Deeper  and  deeper  they  went  into  this  canyon, 
until  suddenly  the  lead  pair  of  mules  disappeared 
from  sight,  followed  by  the  others  in  rapid  succes- 
sion, and  in  a  moment  more  the  wagon  tilted  down 
at  an  angle  of  forty-five  degrees  and  Donald  found 
himself  clutching  the  seat  to  keep  from  pitching 
out. 

Down  they  went  at  a  speed  which  seemed  entirely 
too  rapid  to  be  safe,  and  more  than  once  the  boy 
found  his  heart  in  his  throat  as  the  wheels  on  one 
side  would  suddenly  sink  nearly  to  the  hubs  in  the 
soft  roadbed,  or  jolt  over  big  rocks  which  were  scat- 
tered thick  along  its  entire  length.  He  made  no 
comments,  however,  and  tried  to  look  as  though  it 


Rita  Blanca  37 

was  an  enjoyable  experience,  for  Bill  appeared  quite 
calm  and  unconcerned,  and  it  would  never  do  to 
show  his  nervousness./ 

They  went  straight  down  for  what  seemed  an 
interminable  distance,  but  which  was  in  reality  not 
more  than  150  feet,  and  then  the  trail  turned  off  to 
the  right  and  zigzagged  along  at  an  easier  grade 
until  they  reached  the  bottom. 

"  What  sort  of  a  place  do  you  call  this  ?  "  Donald 
asked,  as  soon  as  he  recovered  his  balance  and  could 
let  go  of  the  seat. 

"  That's  a  sand-draw,"  Bill  said,  taking  out  his 
tobacco  sack.  "  Kind  of  a  big  washout  or  some- 
thin'  like  that,  I  reckon.  There's  a  lot  of  'em 
around  these  parts." 

"Why,  I  thought  it  was  all  flat  about  here," 
Donald  said,  in  surprise. 

"  So  it  is ;  north  uh  here.  But  there's  a  lot  uh 
draws  between  here  an'  th'  Canadian,  an'  all  along 
th'  river  is  th'  breaks." 

The  draw  looked  to  Donald  like  the  bed  of  a  great 
river.  It  seemed  to  be  about  two  miles  wide  and  ran 
almost  due  north  and  south.  The  eastern  side, 


38  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

down  which  they  had  come,  was  steep  and  precipi- 
tous, while  the  other  sloped  up  very  gradually.  The 
bottom  was  clear  sand  and  it  was  so  soft  and  yield- 
ing that  the  mules  had  a  hard  time  to  get  along,  and 
it  needed  all  of  Bill's  efforts  and  a  liberal  dose  of  his 
long  lash  to  keep  them  going. 

At  last  they  struck  firmer  ground  and  a  little  later 
crossed  a  small,  shallow  stream,  which  was  nearly 
dry. 

By  this  time  it  was  after  six,  and  since  it  was 
impossible  to  reach  the  ranch  that  night,  Bill  de- 
cided that  this  was  as  good  a  place  as  any  to  camp. 
The  wagon  was  pulled  upstream  a  hundred  yards 
or  so  and  the  mules  taken  out  and  staked  to  mesquite 
bushes.  Then  the  two  of  them  scouted  around  for 
chips  for  a  fire. 

It  was  almost  dark  before  they  had  collected 
enough,  but  it  didn't  take  Bill  long  to  cook  supper, 
and  they  both  fell  to  with  such  vigor  that  there 
wasn't  much  left  to  clear  up. 

Even  while  he  ate,  Donald  had  hard  work  to  keep 
his  eyes  open  and  as  soon  as  he  had  finished,  he 
spread  out  his  bed  on  the  ground,  and  pulling  the 


Rita  Blanca  39 

blankets  around  him,  was  asleep  before  Bill  could 
roll  a  cigarette. 

Long  before  sunrise  they  were  up  and  off.  A 
short  pull  took  them  out  of  the  draw  to  the  plains 
again,  which  were  level  and  grassy,  and  very  much 
as  Donald  had  imagined  them. 

About  eleven  o'clock  they  struck  the  breaks — 
which  name  Donald  found  to  be  very  descriptive. 
Cracks,  washouts,  great  stones  piled  up  in  indescrib- 
able confusion:  small  and  large  canyons  winding 
in  and  out  and  intersecting  each  other  at  every  point 
of  the  compass,  without  rhyme  or  reason,  made  it 
quite  the  worst  traveling  he  had  ever  seen. 

The  trail  wound  in  and  out,  through  canyons, 
over  steep  barriers,  and  down  again  into  sand-strewn 
hollows  without  number,  until  he  wondered  how  the 
mules  could  possibly  keep  a  footing,  much  less  pull 
the  heavy  freight. 

This  continued  for  about  an  hour,  and  then,  sud- 
denly and  without  a  warning,  they  came  over  a  steep 
ridge  to  the  level  ground  again,  and  Rita  Blanca 
was  before  them. 

The  ranch  house  which  faced  them  was  rather  an 


40  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

imposing  building,  nearly  a  hundred  feet  long,  and 
substantially  built  of  clapboarding,  with  a  shingled 
roof.  It  stood  on  a  rise  of  ground  which  sloped 
down  to  a  fair-sized  stream  that  came  from  the 
north  and  circled  around  to  the  westward,  a  little 
below  the  house.  To  the  right  was  a  mass 
of  low  buildings,  sheds  and  corrals,  and  the 
whole  thing  had  quite  the  appearance  of  a  small 
settlement. 

Donald,  however,  had  little  time  for  observation, 
for  almost  before  he  knew  it,  they  had  passed  the 
wire  fence  and  forded  the  creek,  and  were  jolting 
along  in  front  of  the  ranch  house.  As  they  went  by 
the  open  door,  he  looked  in,  but  there  was  no  one 
there  and  the  place  seemed  deserted.  fr^—- 

Bill  drove  around  the  end  of  the  building  and 
through  the  big  gates  of  a  corral  which  stood  a  little 
back  of  the  house  and  some  two  hundred  yards 
away  from  it. 

"  Wai,  Kid,  here  we  are,"  he  said,  as  he  leaped 
down  from  his  seat. 

"Yes;  and  I  wonder  how  long  I'll  stay  here," 
Donald  said,  following  him.  Now  that  they  had 


Rita  Blanca  41 

reached  the  ranch  he  began  to  feel  more  doubtful 
than  ever  of  his  chances  of  being  taken  on. 

"  Yuh  won't  stay  here  long  whether  he  gives  yuh 
a  job  or  not,"  Bill  remarked,  as  he  unharnessed  the 
mules,  who  one  and  all  made  a  bee  line  for  the  gate 
and  pasture  as  soon  as  they  were  loosed.  "  Yuh'd 
be  sent  t'  one  o'  th'  camps:  that's  where  he  sends 
green  men  this  time  o'  year." 

"What  do  they  do  there?"  Donald  asked 
curiously. 

"  Oh,  ride  fence,  look  after  windmills,  an'  odd 
jobs  like  that.  It's  a  cinch.  Who  the  deuce  is 
that  guy?" 

"Hello,  men;  just  back  from  town?"  said  a 
voice. 

"  Hully  gee !  "  Bill  muttered ;  "  must  be  a  stock- 
holder." And  he  vanished  into  a  long  shed  at  the 
end  of  a  corral. 

Donald  wheeled  around,  and  saw  standing  in 
the  gateway  a  man  in  a  most  extraordinary  get-up. 

He  was  a  tall,  lanky  individual,  with  a  pale,  sal- 
low complexion,  and  a  thin,  unprepossessing  face. 
In  ordinary  attire  he  would  have  passed  unnoticed 


42  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

in  a  crowd,  but  his  clothes  singled  him  out  for 
instant  observation.  The  suit  was  of  a  loud  check; 
the  coat,  fitted  in  at  the  waist  in  the  exaggerated 
manner  which  stamps  a  cheap  clothier,  was  thrown 
open  to  disclose  a  fancy  waistcoat  of  the  giddiest 
pattern.  The  trousers  were  turned  up  at  least  six 
inches  from  the  ground,  apparently  to  display  to 
the  utmost  advantage  the  red  openwork  socks  and 
patent  leather  ties  with  bows  an  inch  and  a  half 
wide.  A  striped  purple  and  green  shirt,  a  bright 
red  tie,  and  a  straw  hat,  somewhat  the  worse  for 
wear,  resting  precariously  on  the  back  of  his  head, 
comprised  all  the  visible  portions  of  his  outfit. 

"Just  back  from  town?"  repeated  the  stranger 
in  a  condescending  manner. 

Donald  came  to  with  a  start.  He  had  been  so 
busy  taking  mental  notes  and  trying  to  keep  a 
straight  face  that  he  had  forgotten  to  answer  the 
question. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  biting  his  lips.  "  We  left  Chan- 
ning  yesterday  afternoon  and  just  got  in." 

"  Took  your  time,  didn't  you,"  the  other  remarked 
with  a  short,  disagreeable  laugh.  "  You're  a  ten- 


Rita  Blanca  43 

derfoot,  ain't  you?"  he  added,  eying  Donald  up 
and  down. 

"  Reckon  I  am,"  Donald  answered.  "  Came  out 
to  see  if  I  could  get  a  job." 

"  Humph !  You  don't  stand  much  show  if  you're 
as  green  as  you  look." 

"  Well,  I'm  going  to  try,  anyway,"  Donald  said 
resolutely.  "  I  can't  be  any  more  than  turned 
down.  Do  you  know  whether  Mr.  Edwards  is 
around?  " 

"  No,  he  ain't :  won't  be  here  'till  this  afternoon. 
Ever  punch  cows  ?  " 

"No:  did  you?" 

"  I  should  say  so,"  the  other  returned.  "  What  I 
don't  know  about  the  business  wouldn't  fill  much 
of  a  book.  I'm  going  to  get  a  job  with  this  outfit 
myself,  and  I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  do.  I'll  speak  to 
Bob  and  see  if  he  won't  take  you  on.  What's  your 
name,  anyway  ?  Mine's  Johnson." 

"  Harrington,"  Donald  answered.  "  But  I'd 
rather  you  wouldn't  say  anything  to  Mr.  Edwards 
about  me.  I'd  rather  talk  to  him  myself." 

"  Oh,  well,  suit  yourself,"  the  other  returned.    "  I 


44  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

thought  I'd  make  things  easy  for  you,  seeing  as  I 
know  the  ropes  and  you  don't." 

By  this  time  Bill  had  made  up  his  mind  that  the 
stranger  wasn't  a  stockholder,  and  emerged  from 
the  wagon-shed,  very  irritable  at  having  been  fooled. 
Completely  ignoring  the  newcomer,  he  gruffly  in- 
formed Donald  that  if  he  wanted  something  to  eat 
he  could  get  it  in  the  kitchen,  and  strode  over  to 
the  ranch  house. 

Donald  followed,  accompanied  by  Johnson,  who 
talked  continually  all  the  way. 

The  kitchen  was  at  the  end  of  the  building  near- 
est the  corral,  and  here  Donald  found  Bill  warming 
some  coffee  on  the  stove,  while  another  man,  evi- 
dently the  cook,  sat  with  his  feet  up  on  the  sink, 
languidly  watching  the  proceedings.  The  boy  was 
a  little  surprised,  but  he  afterwards  learned  that  it 
was  the  cook's  duty  to  provide  three  meals  a  day  at 
fixed  hours,  and  that  if  anyone  wanted  anything  at 
other  times  he  had  to  forage  for  himself. 

When  it  became  evident  that  Johnson  was  going 
to  stay,  the  cook  arose  from  his  chair,  and  bestowing 
a  frosty  glance  upon  the  garrulous  stranger,  osten- 


Rita  Blanca  45 

tatiously  left  the  room.  Bill  poured  out  the  coffee 
in  silence,  and  helping  himself  to  a  chunk  of  bread, 
pushed  the  rest  over  to  Donald.  The  latter  was 
too  hungry  to  talk  much,  but  Mr.  Johnson  seemed  to 
have  no  trouble  in  keeping  up  a  running  fire  of  con- 
versation, chiefly  of  an  autobiographical  char- 
acter. 

He  told  in  detail  of  the  wonderful  records  he  had 
made  in  roping,  branding,  and  riding  broncs;  and 
of  the  prizes  he  had  won  at  various  Frontier  Days 
all  over  the  country.  He  was  sorry  he  had  not 
brought  some  of  the  medals  to  show  the  boys,  but 
he  was  always  losing  one  or  two  of  them,  so  he  had 
left  them  at  home.  He  was  well  known  and  much 
sought  after  by  ranch-owners  throughout  Montana, 
Wyoming,  Colorado;  in  fact,  pretty  much  every- 
where in  the  West  except  Texas.  Strange  to  say, 
he  had  never  been  with  a  Texas  outfit,  so  he  had 
made  up  his  mind  to  give  the  X  L's  the  benefit  of 
his  experience  and  show  them  how  things  were  done 
in  other  parts  of  the  country. 


CHAPTER   V 
TAKEN  ON 

DONALD  listened  to  all  this  with  rather  mixed 
feelings.  He  had  an  idea  that  the  real  cow- 
boy didn't  brag  so  much  about  himself  and  what  he 
could  do,  but  this  man  certainly  seemed  to  know 
what  he  was  talking  about,  and  must  have  had  a 
good  deal  of  experience  to  have  everything  down  so 
glibly.  As  for  Bill,  he  never  vouchsafed  a  word, 
but  devoted  himself  strictly  to  business,  and  when 
he  had  finished  eating,  shoved  back  his  chair  and 
started  for  the  door. 

"  I'm  goin'  over  t'  th'  bunk  house,  Kid,  if  yuh 
want  t'  come  along,"  he  called  back  over  his  shoul- 
der; and  slammed  the  door. 

Donald  wanted  to  see  everything  there  was  to  be 
seen  and  was  beginning  to  tire  of  Mr.  Johnson's 
flow  of  words,  so  he  made  a  break  for  the  door  and 
disappeared,  leaving  that  worthy  alone  in  the  middle 

of  an  unfinished  sentence. 

46 


Taken  On  47 

"  What  you  so  cross  about,  Bill  ?  "  he  asked  mis- 
chievously, as  he  caught  up  to  his  friend.  "  Don't 
you  like  Mr.  Johnson  ?  " 

"  Gee!  "  Bill  burst  out.  "  Ain't  he  th'  limit?  I 
ain't  never  seen  anybody  throw  words  around  s' 
much  in  all  m'  life." 

"  He  must  have  had  a  lot  of  experience,"  Donald 
remarked,  suppressing  a  grin. 

"  Experience :  him !  "  Bill  exclaimed  scornfully. 
"  I  bet  he  never  rid  a  bronc  in  his  life,  nor  used  a 
brandin'  iron.  He's  all  wind.  I  tell  yuh,  Kid,"  he 
went  on;  "  yuh've  got  a  slim  chance  of  a  job,  but 
his  is  worse.  Whatever  yuh  are,  don't  be  windy." 

The  bunk  house  stood  directly  back  of  the  ranch- 
house,  some  fifty  feet  away.  It  was  of  adobe  with 
a  shingle  roof,  and  was  very  like  the  one  at  Chan- 
ning,  except  that  it  was  divided  into  two  rooms, 
and  had  a  porch  running  across  the  front,  with 
wooden  seats  built  against  the  walls  and  at  the 
ends. 

After  inspecting  the  interior,  Donald  went  out 
and  sat  on  the  steps  to  wait  until  Bill  finished  sewing 
up  his  chaps,  which  had  ripped  along  one  side.  He 


48  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

had  not  been  there  long  when  he  heard  the  sound  of 
a  horse  approaching,  and  a  moment  later  a  big  sorrel 
dashed  around  the  corner  of  the  ranch  house  and 
stopped  in  front  of  the  door. 

The  rider  slid  off,  and  reaching  down,  deftly 
unbuckled  the  cinch,  lifted  the  saddle  off  and  threw 
it  on  the  ground ;  slipped  the  bit  out  of  the  horse's 
mouth,  and  turned  him  loose.  He  had  just  put  his 
hand  on  the  latch,  when  the  door  opened  and  Mr. 
Johnson  came  out.  He  greeted  the  new  arrival 
rather  more  quietly  than  was  his  custom,  and  the 
two  stood  talking  for  some  ten  minutes,  so  that 
Donald  had  plenty  of  time  to  take  stock  of  the  man 
whom  he  guessed  must  be  Bob  Edwards. 

He  was  lean  and  long-limbed,  with  powerful 
shoulders  and  a  keen,  dark,  rather  handsome  face. 
His  eyes  were  black,  and  appeared  to  be  looking 
at  Johnson  with  disconcerting  directness,  for  the 
cow-puncher  from  "  everywhere  but  Texas  "  did  not 
seem  to  be  up  to  his  mark  in  the  matter  of  volubil- 
ity. Even  at  that,  he  did  most  of  the  talking,  the 
newcomer  saying  very  little,  and  that  only  in  mono- 
syllables with  an  occasional  nod  or  shake  of  his 


Taken  On  49 

head.  After  some  ten  minutes'  conversation,  they 
both  went  inside  the  house,  and  a  few  minutes  later 
the  door  opened  and  Bob  Edwards  came  out  alone 
and  strode  over  toward  the  bunk  house.  He  was 
dressed  exactly  like  the  other  cowboys  and  seemed 
to  have  ridden  hard,  for  his  clothes  were  covered 
with  dust,  and  his  well-worn  chaps  were  still  wet 
from  contact  with  the  horse's  flanks. 

As  he  came  up  he  nodded  to  Donald  and  walked 
over  to  a  basin  which  stood  at  one  end  of  the  porch, 
and  began  to  wash  his  face  and  hands.  This  done, 
he  sat  down  on  one  of  the  benches,  and  taking  out 
his  tobacco,  began  to  make  a  cigarette.  Donald 
waited  until  this  was  rolled  and  lit  and  half  smoked, 
before  he  made  a  move.  He  didn't  believe  in  hurry- 
ing a  man  who  had  just  come  in  from  a  hard  ride, 
and  he  thought  his  chances  would  be  better  after 
the  boss  had  had  a  few  puffs  from  his  cigarette. 
But  when  he  had  been  smoking  for  about  five 
minutes,  the  boy  got  up  and  walked  over  to 
him. 

"  You're  Mr.  Edwards,  aren't  you?  "  he  asked. 

"  I'm  Bob  Edwards,  if  that's  who  you  mean,"  the 


50  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

other  returned,  and  added  with  a  slight  smile :  "  We 
don't  have  many  misters  around  here." 

"  Do  you  want  any  men?  "  Donald  asked  rather 
anxiously. 

"  Don't  know  as  I  do,"  the  other  drawled. 
"  Know  any  one  wants  a  job?  " 

"  Why,  yes,"  Donald  said.     "  I  do." 

"  Had  any  experience?    Ever  branded  calves?  " 

"  No." 

"Ride?" 

"  Yes,  I  can  ride." 

"  Can  you  ride  broncs  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  but  I'm  not  afraid  to  try." 

The  black  eyes  seemed  to  look  right  through  him, 
and  while  Bob's  expression  was  very  pleasant,  Don- 
ald was  glad  he  hadn't  taken  the  advice  so  freely 
given  him,  to  throw  a  bluff  about  being  experienced. 
He  felt  sure  that  if  he  had,  Bob  would  have  called 
that  bluff  in  short  order. 

There  was  silence  for  a  few  minutes,  during 
which  the  latter  seemed  to  be  taking  stock  of  Donald. 
Then  he  rose  to  his  feet  and  walked  to  the  bunk- 
house  door. 


Taken  On  51 

"  I'll  think  it  over  and  let  you  know,"  he  said,  as 
he  went  inside. 

Donald  sat  down  on  the  steps  again  and  tried  to 
possess  his  soul  in  patience.  He  did  wish  Bob 
would  hurry  up  and  decide,  for  the  suspense 
was  very  wearing;  but  it  was  at  least  three- 
quarters  of  an  hour  before  he  put  his  head  out  of 
the  door. 

"  Got  an  outfit,  I  suppose  ?  "  he  said. 

"Yes;  it's  over  in  the  corral,"  Donald  answered 
eagerly. 

"  Well,  I  reckon  I'll  take  you  on,"  Bob  continued. 
"  I'll  want  you  to  go  down  to  Poloma  Camp 
to-night.  That's  about  thirty  miles  due  south;  you 
can't  miss  the  trail.  Report  to  Montana  George, 
who's  boss  there,  an'  he'll  put  you  to  work.  Bill  will 
catch  a  horse  for  you  to  ride  and  another  to  carry 
your  bed.  You'll  have  to  camp  to-night,  so  you'd 
better  get  some  grub  before  you  go." 

"  All  right,"  Donald  said.  "  And  thank  you  very 
much." 

"  Say,  Bill,"  Bob  said,  looking  back  into  the 
bunk  house.  "  Just  go  out  an'  rope  a  horse  for  th' 


52  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

kid,  an'  throw  his  saddle  on.  What  did  you  say 
your  name  was  ?  " 

"  Harrington,"  Donald  answered. 

"  All  right.  Well,  you  report  to  Poloma  and  stay 
there  until  further  notice." 

Bill  came  out  at  that  moment,  carrying  a  rope,  and 
Donald  followed  him  over  to  the  corral. 

"  Wai,  yuh  got  took  on,"  Bill  remarked,  as  he 
unfastened  the  gate.  "  An'  so  did  that  gasbag 
Johnson." 

"Did  he,"  Donald  asked.  "Is  he  going  to 
Poloma,  too?" 

"  Not  as  I  knows  of.  I  wisht  he'd  go  some- 
wheres  away  from  here,  though.  It's  terrible 
wearin',  havin'  a  guy  like  that  around." 

There  were  half  a  dozen  horses  bunched  in  a 
corner  of  the  corral,  and  Bill  walked  over  to  them. 
When  he  was  within  twenty  feet,  he  threw  the  loop 
of  his  catch  rope  back  over  his  right  shoulder  and 
then  with  a  quick  jerk  sent  it  straight  at  the  horses. 
It  dropped  over  the  neck  of  a  small  bay  which, 
after  the  first  startled  jump,  stood  perfectly 
still. 


Taken  On  53 

"  Wai,  there's  your  cayuse,"  he  remarked.  "  Now 
git  your  bridle  an'  saddle." 

Donald  picked  up  his  bridle,  and  shouldering  his 
saddle,  went  back  to  the  corral. 

Bill  adjusted  the  bridle  and  turned  to  the  boy. 

"  Now  yuh  want  t'  take  th'  saddle  up  this  way," 
he  said,  suiting  the  action  to  the  word.  "  Take  th' 
tree  in  your  right  hand  an'  th'  skirt  an'  stirrup  uh 
th'  off  side  in  your  left:  then  throw  it  on.  That 
way  yuh  don't  git  th'  stirrup  caught  under." 

He  tightened  the  cinch  and  stood  facing  the  horse, 
the  reins  in  his  left  hand. 

"  There's  a  little  trick  about  mountin',  too,"  he 
said.  "Yuh  don't  want  t'  walk  up  alongside  a 
horse  an'  take  your  time  gittin'  on.  'Bout  th'  time 
yuh  got  your  foot  in  th'  stirrup,  he'd  start  waltzin' 
around  an'  yuh'd  most  likely  git  thrown.  Yuh 
want  t'  stand  in  front  uh  him  an'  hold  th'  reins 
tight.  Then  turn  th'  stirrup  around  with  your 
other  hand,  an'  git  your  foot  in.  After  that,  git 
into  th'  saddle  as  quick  as  yuh  kin,  an'  look  fur 
squalls." 

With  a  leap  he  was  on  the  horse's  back,  but 


54  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

the  animal  was  a  gentle  one,  and  beyond  a  little 
restive  prancing,  he  didn't  cut  up. 

"  Jest  hand  me  m'  rope,  an'  I'll  git  a  pack  horse 
fur  yuh." 

He  rode  out  of  the  corral  and  returned  in  about 
ten  minutes,  leading  another  horse.  He  then  showed 
Donald  how  to  make  a  hackamore,  or  rope  bridle, 
and  how  it  was  fastened  to  the  horn  of  his  saddle. 
When  this  was  done,  he  was  ready  to  start,  except 
for  putting  his  bed  on  the  horse's  back. 

"  I  reckon  yuh  c'n  do  that  yourself,"  Bill  said,  as 
they  left  the  corral  after  tying  the  horse  to  the  fence. 
"  Yuh'd  better  git  some  grub  now.  If  there's  any- 
thin'  yuh  don't  want  t'  take  t'  camp,  jest  leave  it  in 
th'  wagon  an'  I'll  look  after  it." 

Donald  thanked  him  and  hurried  over  to  the 
kitchen,  where  he  gulped  down  some  coffee  and  ate 
some  bread.  Then  he  led  the  pack  horse  into  the 
wagon  corral,  and  pulling  down  his  bed,  unbuckled 
the  straps. 

"  He  said,  just  throw  it  over  the  horse's  back  and 
strap  it  on,"  he  thought  to  himself.  "  That  ought 
to  be  easy." 


Taken  On  55 

It  wasn't,  however.  At  the  first  try,  the  entire 
bed  went  over  the  horse  and  landed  in  a  heap  on 
the  other  side.  It  took  five  minutes  to  straighten 
it  out  and  then  he  tried  again  with  less  vigor.  This 
time  the  horse  side-stepped,  and  the  result  was  the 
same. 

"  I  reckon  you'd  better  let  me  give  you  a  hand," 
said  a  voice;  and  looking  up,  Donald  saw  Bob 
watching  him  from  the  gate. 

"  I  don't  seem  to  be  able  to  do  a  thing  with  it," 
Donald  said,  as  he  picked  the  things  up  and  spread 
them  out  again. 

"It  just  takes  a  little  practice,  that's  all,"  Bob 
said.  He  picked  up  the  bundle,  and  tossing  it  easily 
on  the  horse's  back,  caught  it  underneath,  and  in  a 
moment  more  had  adjusted  the  straps  and  the  thing 
was  done. 

Donald  thanked  him,  and  leading  the  animal  out- 
side, fastened  the  hackamore  to  the  horn  of  his 
saddle.  Then  he  mounted  without  any  trouble  and 
started  down  the  trail  which  Bill  had  pointed  out. 

This  led  south  from  the  ranch  house  and  was 
plain  enough  and  fairly  good  going.  He  crossed 


56  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

the  stream  and  went  through  a  gate  in  the  wire 
fence  beyond ;  and  then  his  troubles  began. 

Not  more  than  five  hundred  yards  beyond  the 
gate  he  had  to  jump  a  ditch,  and  as  he  did  so,  the 
packhorse  pulled  suddenly  back  on  the  hackamore, 
which,  to  Donald's  surprise  and  chagrin,  slipped  off 
the  horn  of  his  saddle. 

Finding  himself  free,  the  miserable  beast  tossed 
his  head,  and  whinnying  joyfully,  cantered  off  along 
the  fence.  Donald  wheeled  and  started  after  him, 
but  his  efforts  were  useless,  for  though  once  or  twice 
he  got  quite  close  to  the  horse,  he  had  no  way  of 
catching  him.  He  had  gone  nearly  a  mile  along  the 
fence,  and  was  at  his  wits'  end  to  know  what  to 
do,  when  two  cowboys  suddenly  appeared  over 
a  rise,  and  taking  in  the  situation  at  a  glance,  one 
of  them  spurred  his  horse  to  a  run,  and  took  down 
his  catch  rope.  He  caught  up  to  the  runaway  in  a 
moment,  and  swinging  his  rope  a  couple  of  times 
around  his  head,  let  fly,  and  Donald  had  the  satis- 
faction of  seeing  that  animal's  career  of  liberty 
suddenly  cut  short. 

While  this  was  going  on  he  was  still  some  dis- 


Taken  On  57 

tance  away.  The  ground  was  rough  and  he  was 
afraid  to  spur  his  horse.  Consequently  he  was  not 
surprised  to  find  that  the  cowboys  did  not  wait  for 
him,  but  galloped  on  to  the  ranch-house,  taking  the 
pack-horse  with  them. 

He  followed  more  slowly,  marveling  at  the  ease 
and  quickness  with  which  they  went  down  the  rock- 
strewn  hillside,  and  inwardly  not  a  little  anxious  as 
to  what  kind  of  a  reception  would  follow  his  speedy 
and  inglorious  return  to  the  ranch. 


CHAPTER  VI 
DONALD  TAKES  A  NEW  NAME 

AS  Donald  rode  around  to  the  corral,  he  was  all 
prepared  for  a  good  laying  out.     His  only 
hope  was  that  Bob  had  not  seen  the  escape  of  the 
ST"*'  pack-horse,  in  which  case  he  might  be  able  to  slip 

off  at  once  and  be  well  out  of  the  way  before  it  was 
:> 

brought  to  his  attention. 

This  hope  was  shattered,  however,  as  he  went  in 
the  gate.  The  two  strange  cowboys  had  unsaddled 
and  were  standing  there,  talking  to  Bob :  the  offend- 
ing pack-horse  was  tied  to  a  posty  head  down,  and 
looking  as  though  he  would  stancffor  hours  without 
moving. 

"  Well,  Kid,"  Bob  said  with  a  grin  as  he  appeared. 
"What's  the  trouble?" 

"  I  was  jumping  a  ditch  and  he  pulled  back  and 
got  away,"  Donald  explained. 

"  Better  put  a  couple  of  half  hitches  in  the  line 
58 


Donald  Takes  a  New  Name        59 

next  time  and  you'll  be  sure  of  him,"  Bob  said,  and 
then  added :  "  It's  too  late  to  start  now.  You 
might  as  well  stay  here  to-night,  and  get  off  the  first 
thing  in  the  morning." 

Somewhat  relieved,  Donald  slipped  out  of  his 
saddle  and  unbuckled  the  cinch.  Then  he  pulled  the 
bridle  off,  and  the  instant  he  did  so  the  horse  made  a 
bolt  for  the  gate,  with  the  saddle  still  on  his  back. 
Feeling  the  cinch  flapping  around  his  legs,  he  gave 
a  few  buck- jumps  which  threw  it  off,  and  then 
disappeared. 

"  That's  another  fool  trick,"  Donald  said  to  him- 
self, as  he  picked  it  up.  "  I  certainly  am  dotty 
to-day. 

"  Where  do  you  keep  your  saddles  ?  "  he  asked, 
as  he  came  back  to  the  corral. 

The  two  cowboys  simply  looked  at  him  and 
grinned.  They  had  been  viewing  the  whole  per- 
formance with  interest  and  it  seemed  to  amuse  them 
considerably. 

Hardly  were  the  words  out  of  his  mouth  when 
Donald  saw  half  a  dozen  saddles  lying  in  a  row 
along  the  fence,  and  with  flushed  face  he  walked 


60  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

over  and  dropped  his  with  the  rest.  As  he  turned 
he  met  Bill  just  coming  in. 

"  Yuh  got  back  soon,"  the  latter  said.  "  I  seen 
yuh  havin*  trouble  with  yuhr  horse.  Hello,  Alkali : 
I  got  yuhr  tobacco." 

"  Good  fur  yuh,"  said  the  man  who  had  roped 
Donald's  horse.  "  I'm  down  an'  out.  Where 
is  it?" 

"  Over  t'  th'  house.  We  got  a  new  arrival,"  he 
added,  as  they  strolled  out  of  the  corral,  Donald  fol- 
lowing close  behind. 

"  Who  ;th'  kid  here?" 

"Naw:  he's  all  right.  Wait  'till  yuh  see  th' 
other  one:  he's  a  peach.  Talk  yuh  t'  death,  if  yuh 
let  him." 

A  slow  grin  overspread  Alkali's  sunburned  face, 
as  he  carelessly  brushed  back  his  long  yellow 
hair. 

"  Bad  as  that  ?  "  he  murmured  comprehendingly. 
"  Wai,  we  want  somethin'  t'  liven  us  up  around 
here." 

"  Yuh'll  git  it,"  Bill  said  tersely.    "  That's  him." 

Mr.  Johnson  appeared  at  that  moment  in  the  door 


Donald  Takes  a  New  Name        61 

of  the  bunk  house,  and  as  he  saw  Donald  he  gave 
vent  to  a  raucous  burst  of  laughter. 

"  Ha,  ha ! "  he  exclaimed.  "  Thought  you'd  come 
back,  did  you  ?  Didn't  take  you  long  to  find  out  you 
didn't  know  much  about  horses." 

"  It  wasn't  so  much  not  knowing  about  horses  as 
not  knowing  what  kind  of  a  knot  to  tie,"  Donald 
said,  flushing  a  little. 

"  Well,  if  a  man  had  done  a  thing  like  that  when  I 
was  boss  of  the  Triangle  outfit  in  Wyoming,"  John- 
son said  loftily,  "  I'd  have  fired  him  on  the  spot." 

"  Jest  see  what  yuh  missed,  Kid,"  Alkali  said 
solemnly.  "  It's  lucky  fur  yuh  Bob's  such  an  easy 
mark.  Where's  that  tobacco,  Bill?  " 

The  tobacco  was  produced,  and  while  he  was 
making  a  cigarette  the  supper  bell  rang,  and  they 
all  trooped  over. 

There  were  only  seven  at  the  table.  Bob  sat  at 
one  end  and  Alkali  at  the  other.  Donald,  Bill,  and 
Johnson  were  on  one  side,  and  opposite  them  were 
Alkali's  side  partner,  Ed,  and  a  Mexican  who  had 
come  in  last  of  all. 

The  conversation  was  brisk :  due  principally  to  the 


62  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

efforts  of  Mr.  Johnson,  which  were  greatly  encour- 
aged by  Alkali's  appreciative  interest  in  his  exploits, 
presenting  a  marked  contrast  to  the  openly  expressed 
indifference  of  the  other  men.  He  told  all  about  his 
doings  in  various  parts  of  the  country;  his  accom- 
plishments, and  the  rivalry  he  had  caused  among 
ranch-owners,  who  all  desired  his  services,  with 
even  greater  length  and  detail  than  he  had  shown  in 
the  afternoon.  Toward  the  end  of  the  meal  the  men 
were  yawning  openly.  Alkali  alone  continued  to 
exhibit  a  polite  and  even  an  effusive  interest  in  the 
narrative,  occasionally  interrupting  it  to  tell  John- 
son how  pleased  he  was  that  the  X  L's  outfit  was  to 
have  the  benefit  of  his  vast  and  valuable  experience. 
Consequently,  by  the  time  they  got  up  from  the 
table,  the  latter  had  a  firm  impression  that  Alkali 
was  not  only  a  very  good  friend,  but  that  he  was 
quite  the  most  appreciative  fellow  he  had  seen  in  a 
long  run. 

"Wai,  how'd  yuh  like  yuhr  supper?"  Alkali 
inquired,  as  they  went  out  of  the  dining-room. 

"  Rotten !  "  Johnson  replied  in  disgust.  "  I  never 
ate  such  a  bum  lot  of  grub :  no  variety." 


Donald  Takes  a  New  Name         63 

"  It  was  pretty  bad,"  Alkali  agreed  solemnly, 
casting  a  sidelong  glance  at  Bill  who  walked  beside 
him.  "Of  course  we  most  generally  have  it  better 
than  that,  but  th'  supplies  was  delayed  this  week. 
It  ain't  often  we  don't  have  oysters,  an'  game  uh 
some  kind,  with  roast  turkey  an'  ice  cream  t'  end  up 
with." 

"  Well,  that's  something  like  it,"  Johnson  said. 
"  That's  what  I've  been  used  to !  " 

Bill  was  suddenly  seized  with  a  fit  of  choking  at 
this  point  and  disappeared  into  the  bunk  house, 
where  the  others  soon  followed,  making  themselves 
comfortable  in  various  attitudes  about  the  room. 

Johnson  talked  with  no  signs  of  cessation  until 
Alkali  suddenly  said : 

"  What's  yuhr  name,  anyway  ?  " 

"  Johnson,"  the  other  answered  pompously. 
"  Claude  Duval  Johnson." 

For  an  instant  there  was  silence,  and  then  came  a 
yell  which  nearly  raised  the  roof. 

"  Claude  Doo-val !  Hully  gee,  what  a  name !  " 

"  Lose  it !  forgit  it !  " 

"  Giv'  him  th'  chaps  fur  havin*  a  name  like  that." 


64  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

When  the  noise  had  subsided  a  little,  Alkali  picked 
up  a  pair  of  leather  chaps  from  the  floor. 

"  It's  yuh'r  desire  that  our  friend  here  gits  th' 
chaps  fur  bein'  named  Claude,"  he  remarked 
suavely.  "  Very  well ;  will  yuh  take  'em,  Claude,  or 
fight  fur  'em?" 

Johnson  hesitated  an  instant. 

"  Oh,  I'll  take  them,"  he  said  at  length.  But  it 
was  quite  plain  that  he  did  not  know  what  Alkali 
meant,  any  more  than  did  Donald,  who  sat  in  one 
corner  a  silent,  but  intensely  interested  observer. 

"  All  right,"  Alkali  went  on.  "  Git  on  this  bed 
here." 

Thinking  this  some  new  pleasantry,  Johnson 
arose  and  walked  over  to  a  bed  which  lay  rolled 
up  and  strapped  on  the  floor. 

"  What  do  you  want  me  to  do,"  he  asked,  as  he 
sat  down  on  it. 

"Oh,  that  ain't  the  way,"  Ed  said;  and  like  a 
flash  he  seized  the  man's  arms,  while  Bill  took  his 
feet,  and  a  moment  later  he  was  lying  face  down 
over  the  bed,  and  Alkali  was  cheerfully  applying  the 
chaps  with  considerable  force,  and  a  peculiar  draw- 


Donald  Takes  a  New  Name        65 

ing  motion  which  was  very  painful,  to  that  part  of 
his  anatomy  where  they  would  do  the  most  good. 

A  great  light  broke  upon  Donald's  mind.  This, 
then,  was  being  chapped;  and  he  watched  the  pro- 
ceedings with  an  uncomfortable  uncertainty  as  to 
whether  his  turn  would  come  next  or  not. 

Claude  did  not  take  kindly  to  the  custom.  He 
writhed  and  twisted  and  poured  out  a  perfect  stream 
of  profanity;  and  when  he  was  released  after 
twenty  strokes  had  been  applied,  he  struggled 
to  his  feet,  fairly  purple  with  rage  and  sputtering 
out  an  extremely  unflattering  opinion  of  every  one 
present,  mingled  with  threats  of  what  he  proposed 
doing  to  each  one  of  them. 

Donald  sat  quite  still,  struggling  between  a  desire 
to  laugh  and  the  fear  of  attracting  attention  to  him- 
self, when  Ed  suddenly  turned  on  him. 

"  Maybe  somebody  else's  got  somethin'  comin' 
to  'em,"  he  remarked1  significantly.  "  What's 
yuhr  name,  Kid  ?  " 

Donald  wasn't  going  to  take  any  chances. 

"  Pete,"  he  said  promptly. 

"  What's  yuhr  other  name  ?  " 


66  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

"  Harrington,"  Donald  answered. 

"  H'm !  Wai,  a  fellow  ain't  responsible  fur  his 
last  name,"  he  said;  "  so  I  reckon  yuh'll  pass.  Why 
tlr  deuce  don't  yuh  shut  up  or  else  do  somethin'  ?  " 
he  went  on,  turning  to  Claude,  who  was  still  grum- 
bling at  the  outrage  of  such  treatment.  "  If  yuh've 
got  any  thin'  agin  anybody,  bring  charges,  an'  if  yuh 
c'n  hold  'em  down,  they'll  git  what  yuh  got." 

Not  being  able  to  stir  Claude  into  action,  Ed 
brought  charges  against  Bill  for  not  bringing  any- 
thing good  to  eat  from  town,  and  the  latter  received 
ten  strokes  of  the  chaps  philosophically,  and  with  no 
apparent  discomfort. 

When  one  man  brought  charges  against  another, 
the  method  of  holding  him  was  for  the  first  man  to 
lie  down  on  the  floor  and  clasp  the  other  about  the 
body,  at  the  same  time  twisting  his  legs  about  those 
of  the  man  on  top.  Of  course,  if  the  latter  could 
manage  to  roll  over  and  bring  his  accuser  on  top,  the 
chapping  went  on  just  the  same,  and  it  not  infre- 
quently happened  that  a  man  got  most  of  the  pun- 
ishment he  had  intended  for  someone  else;  which, 
of  course,  only  added  to  the  fun. 


Donald  Takes  a  New  Name        67 

There  was  a  momentary  lull,  and  Claude,  think- 
ing that  the  worst  was  over  for  the  night,  recovered 
his  spirits,  and  presently  launched  into  a  descrip- 
tion of  some  performance  in  Montana,  in  which  he 
played  the  principal  and  only  part  worth  mention- 
ing. He  was  rudely  interrupted  by  Bill  suddenly 
accusing  him  of  being  windy,  and  prescribing  an 
application  of  the  chaps  as  a  remedy.  Despite  his 
struggles  Claude  had  to  submit,  and  after  ten 
strokes  had  been  given  he  was  released,  perfectly 
furious,  and  sulked  for  the  rest  of  the  evening. 

Not  long  after  this,  the  meeting  broke  up,  and 
everybody  turned  in.  Donald  spread  his  bed  next 
to  Bill's,  and  as  he  crawled  into  it  he  realized  for 
the  first  time  how  tired  he  was,  and  wondered 
vaguely  whether  the  next  day  would  prove  as  event- 
ful and  interesting  as  this  had  been. 


CHAPTER  VII 
POLOMA  CAMP 

HE  was  up  next  morning  at  four,  and  after  a 
hasty  breakfast  went  out  to  the  corral  with 
Bill,  who  had  good-naturedly  volunteered  to  rope  his 
horse  for  him.  He  had  discovered  a  pair  of  old 
chaps,  which  he  told  Donald  he  might  as  well  use 
until  he  could  order  a  pair  from  Pueblo,  and  as  the 
boy  pulled  these  on  he  felt  that  they  added  not  a 
little  to  his  businesslike  appearance. 

Bill  roped  the  horses  and  put  the  bed  on  his  pack 
horse.  Then  he  cautioned  him  about  taking  the 
right  trail. 

"  There's  only  one  fur  about  twelve  miles,"  he 
said,  as  Donald  climbed  into  his  saddle  and  fastened 
the  hackamore — this  time  very  securely — to  the 
horn.  "  Then  yuh  want  t'  take  th'  middle  one. 
Stick  t'  that  an'  it'll  bring  yuh  straight  t'  Poloma. 


S'  long." 


68 


Poloma   Camp  69 

Donald  thanked  him  and  rode  off.  As  he  passed 
the  ranch  house,  Bob  called  from  the  doorway : 

"  For  th'  Lord's  sake,  Pete,  don't  let  me  see  you 
again  'till  I  go  down  t'  Poloma  next  week." 

"I'll  try  not  to,"  Donald  laughed.  "Anyway 
this  beast  isn't  going  to  get  away  from  me  to-day." 

The  day  was  a  perfect  one.  The  sun  was  just 
appearing  above  the  horizon  in  a  blaze  of  golden 
color ;  the  morning  air  was  cool  and  fresh,  and  as  he 
rode  down  the  hill  toward  the  creek,  drawing  it  into 
his  lungs  in  great  deep  breaths,  he  could  have 
shouted  aloud  from  sheer  joy  of  living. 

Apparently  Arkansas,  his  horse,  was  in  the  same 
frame  of  mind,  for  he  pranced  and  cavorted  and 
shied  at  everything  in  sight  in  such  a  coltish  manner 
that  Donald  was  obliged  to  give  him  all  his  atten- 
tion, especially  as  the  ground  began  to  grow  rougher 
as  soon  as  he  had  passed  the  fence  and  forded  the 
stream. 

There  was  no  repetition  of  yesterday's  mishap. 
The  pack  horse  pulled  and  jerked  on  the  hackamore, 
but  it  held  fast,  and  Donald  even  doubted  whether 
he  could  ever  untie  it,  so  hard  were  the  knots. 


70  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

He  rode  along  at  a  pretty  good  speed  for  several 
hours.  After  the  first  few  miles  it  was  easy  going, 
for  the  country  was  flat  again  and  covered  with  a 
thick  tangle  of  tough  grass,  out  of  which  an 
occasional  mesquite  bush  reared  its  solitary 
head. 

To  Donald's  unpractised  eye  there  seemed  to  be 
several  trails,  but  as  they  all  ran  along  together,  it 
didn't  make  much  difference  which  he  took.  But 
about  eight  o'clock  he  reached  a  point  where  the  one 
he  was  following  branched  off  into  at  least  eight 
others  which  seemed  to  run  to  every  point  of  the 
compass.  He  reined  in  Arkansas  and  sat  studying 
them  for  a  few  minutes. 

"  Bill  said  there  were  three,"  he  remarked  aloud. 
"  It  looks  like  he  missed  a  few,  or  I  must  be  seeing 
double.  I  wonder  which  is  the  right  one." 

There  was  nothing  to  show  him,  however,  so  he 
picked  out  the  one  which  looked  about  in  the  middle 
and  seemed  a  trifle  more  traveled  than  the  others, 
and  followed  that. 

Mile  after  mile  he  put  behind  him,  without  seeing 
a  landmark  of  any  kind.  At  noon  he  stopped  to 


Poloma   Camp  71 

munch  a  little  bread,  which  he  had  stuffed  into  his 
saddle  pocket,  and  then  went  on  again.  Soon  after 
this  halt  he  struck  a  wire  fence  running  from  east 
to  west,  and  at  once  turned  and  started  along  it. 
He  knew  there  was  a  lot  of  fence  near  Poloma,  for 
Bill  had  mentioned  riding  fence  as  one  of  his  duties, 
so  he  was  pretty  sure  to  come  to  something  if  he 
followed  it  far  enough. 

This  confidence  was  not  misplaced,  for  in  less 
than  half  an  hour  he  saw  a  solitary  figure  riding 
leisurely  toward  him.  As  he  drew  near,  Donald  saw 
that  he  was  a  young  fellow  of  about  his  own  age, 
riding  a  spirited  bay  with  an  ease  and  grace  acquired 
only  by  long  practice.  He  was  slim  and  wiry,  with 
a  mass  of  curly  brown  hair  and  good-humored 
brown  eyes,  and  there  was  an  indescribable  air  of 
jauntiness  about  his  whole  make-up,  from  the  tilt  of 
his  Stetson  to  the  silver-mounted  spurs  on  his  well- 
fitting  boots.  At  first  sight  he  struck  Donald  as 
being  just  the  sort  of  a  fellow  he  would  like  to 
make  friends  with. 

"  Hello,  stranger,"  he  said,  reining  in  his  horse. 
"  Bound  for  th'  camp  ?  " 


72  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

"  Yes :  if  you  mean  Poloma,"  Donald  answered. 
"  Is  it  far?  I've  got  sort  of  twisted." 

"  About  six  miles.  I'm  going  back  there  in  a  few 
minutes.  Just  about  finished  my  fence,  an'  I  reckon 
th'  rest  of  it  can  wait  till  th'  next  time." 

He  wheeled  around  and  they  started  back 
together. 

"You're  new  to  th'  business,  aren't  you?"  the 
other  asked,  presently.  "  I  haven't  seen  you  around 
before." 

"  I  should  say  so,"  Donald  answered,  smiling. 
"  Bob  only  took  me  on  yesterday,  and  I  reckon  I'm 
about  as  green  as  they  make  'em." 

"  Oh,  you'll  learn  th'  ropes  pretty  quick.  Seem  to 
be  able  to  ride  all  right." 

"  This  kind  of  a  horse  is  easy  enough,  but  I  don't 
think  I  could  keep  on  a  bronc." 

"  Nobody  else  can  'till  they've  practised.  Any- 
thing doin'  at  the  ranch?  Who's  there  now?" 

Donald  told  him,  and  ended  up  with  a  detailed 
description  of  Claude  and  of  his  being  chapped  the 
night  before. 

The  stranger  was  much  amused. 


Poloma  Camp  73 

"  Oh,  mama!  "  he  exclaimed;  "  I  hope  Bob  sends 
him  down  here.  Won't  we  raise  Cain  with  him !  " 
And  he  grinned  in  joyful  anticipation. 

For  a  time  they  discussed  the  pleasant  possibili- 
ties incident  to  Claude's  joining  them,  and  then 
drifted  to  other  topics. 

Donald  learned  that  his  new  friend  went  by  the 
name  of  Bronco  Kid,  or  Bronco  for  short.  He  was 
the  youngest  of  the  six  men  in  camp,  and  his  duties 
consisted  mainly  in  riding  fence  and  looking  after 
windmills,  of  which  there  were  a  great  number  on 
the  ranch,  to  pump  water  for  the  cattle. 

Riding  fence  was  a  regular  inspection  of  a  certain 
amount  of  the  fence  which  surrounded  the  entire 
ranch,  and  keeping  it  in  repair.  That  is,  it  was  sup- 
posed to  be  regular;  but  Bronco  told  Donald  that  no 
one  ever  rode  all  the  fence  he  was  supposed  to 
ride. 

"  Some  of  it's  so  blamed  bad  there's  no  use  tryin' 
to  fix  it,"  he  said.  "  And  uh  course  there's  no  sense 
ridin'  it  regular;  it's  a  waste  uh  good  time." 

Donald  asked  about  Montana  George,  and  found 
that  he  was  only  a  cow-puncher  like  the  rest  of  the 


74  Pete,   Cow-Funcher 

men,  but  having  been  longest  at  camp,  he  was  the 
one  who  transmitted  Bob's  orders. 

"  He's  all  right,"  Bronco  said.  "  So's  th'  rest  uh 
th'  boys,  though  Jack  Nulty's  a  queer  sort  of  a 
gazabo :  can't  take  a  joke." 

About  three  o'clock  they  reached  camp  and  went 
at  once  to  the  corral  and  unsaddled.  Donald  took 
his  bed  off  the  pack  horse,  and  turning  him  loose 
with  Arkansas,  walked  over  to  the  bunk  house  with 
Bronco.  Here  they  found  two  of  the  men  asleep  on 
the  floor,  and  Montana  George  smoking  a  cigarette 
in  a  shady  corner  of  the  porch.  Donald  told  him 
of  having  been  sent  down  by  Bob  and  delivered  the 
latter's  message  about  the  horses  he  was  to  have. 

"  All  right,  youngster,"  Montana  said  lazily.  "  I'll 
giv'  yuh  your  mount  t'morrow,  an'  show  yuh  what 
yuh've  got  to  do.  What's  your  name?" 

"  Pete,"  Donald  answered. 

"  Wai,  make  yourself  t'  home.  There  ain't  no- 
thin'  yuh  c'n  do  t'day :  it's  too  late." 

"Can  you  do  anythin'  with  a  rope?"  Bronco 
asked  as  they  strolled  away. 

"  Not  a  thing,"  Donald  confessed. 


Poloma  Camp  75 

"  Well,  you'd  better  get  busy ;  'cause  next  t'  ridin' 
that's  the  most  useful  accomplishment  a  cow- 
puncher's  got.  Come  'round  to  the  tool  house  an' 
I'll  make  one  for  you." 

There  was  a  big  coil  of  rope  in  the  tool  house — a 
small  building  between  the  bunk  house  and  the 
corral — and  Bronco  cut  off  a  piece  about  thirty  feet 
long.  He  showed  Donald  how  to  tie  it  so  that  the 
honda,  or  loop  through  which  the  rope  slid,  should 
lie  flat.  Then  he  illustrated  the  different  ways  of 
throwing  it;  depending  on  whether  he  wanted  to 
rope  an  animal  by  the  fore  feet,  hind  feet,  or  neck. 

"  All  you  need  is  practice,"  he  remarked,  as  he 
handed  Donald  the  rope.  "  It's  only  a  knack,  an' 
you'll  get  on.  to  it  pretty  quick." 

Donald  spent  the  intervening  time  before  supper 
in  getting  some  of  this  practice,  and  in  a  couple  of 
hours  he  was  able  to  throw  it  with  fair  accuracy, 
and  about  once  out  of  every  three  times  he  could  get 
it  over  a  fence  post  or  whatever  stationary  object 
he  was  aiming  at. 

Supper  was  cooked  out-of-doors,  over  a  fire  built 
in  a  shallow  hole  scooped  in  the  sand,  there  being 


76  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

no  fireplace  or  chimney  in  the  bunk  house.  A  hori- 
zontal bar,  with  upright  supports,  held  a  string  of 
pot  hooks,  on  which  were  hung  various-shaped  pots 
and  skillets. 

The  men  took  turns  cooking,  and  when  supper 
was  ready,  each  one  filled  his  plate  from  the  big  pot 
and  sat  down  around  the  fire  to  eat. 

The  first  evening  was  a  quiet  one.  Donald  had 
rather  expected  a  repetition  of  the  rough-house  of 
the  night  before,  but  nothing  of  the  sort  happened. 
There  was  a  little  desultory  talk  about  the  doings  of 
the  day,  and  one  or  two  asked  the  newcomer  his 
name  and  a  few  questions  about  the  ranch,  but  as  a 
whole  they  showed  very  little  curiosity. 

After  supper  pipes  were  produced,  and  a  game  of 
cards  started,  but  as  soon  as  it  grew  dark  every  one 
turned  in. 

Breakfast  over  next  morning,  Montana  George 
told  Donald  to  come  out  to  the  corral,  and  he  would 
show  him  his  mount.  One  of  the  men  had  rounded 
up  all  the  horses,  and  when  they  reached  the  corral 
he  saw  about  thirty  of  them  there,  of  all  kinds  and 
descriptions. 


Poloma  Camp  77 

"  There  ain't  much  of  a  ch'ice  left,"  Montana  said, 
as  they  stood  inside  the  gate.  "  Yuh'll  have  Arkan- 
sas, uh  course,  an'  I  reckon  I'll  giv'  yuh  Coyote, 
Monte,  an'  Socks;  they  most  gen'ally  go  together." 
He  pointed  out  these  horses,  and  then  scratched  his 
head.  "  Th'  only  other  one  I  c'n  think  of  (is 
Freckles :  that's  him  over  there  in  th'  corner." 

Donald  had  noticed  that  horse  the  moment  he 
entered  the  corral.  He  was  a  tall,  well-shaped  ani- 
mal, pure  white  except  for  a  few  tiny  black  spots  on 
his  chest  and  sides.  He  had  been  a  little  disap- 
pointed at  the  other  horses,  all  of  which  were  bays, 
and  very  ordinary  looking,  so  he  was  glad  enough  to 
have  at  least  one  striking  animal  in  his  mount. 

"  He's  a  beauty,"  he  exclaimed  enthusiastically, 
"  I'd  like  awfully  to  have  him." 
~"  H'm :  yes,  Freckles's  a  good  horse,"  Montana 
said  slowly.     "  Wai,  which  one  d'yuh  want  t'  ride? 
We  ought  t'  be  off." 

"  I'll  try  Freckles,"  Donald  said  promptly. 

Montana  hesitated  a  moment,  as  though  he  was 
about  to  say  something,  and  then  he  changed  his 
mind. 


78  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

"  All  right,"  he  said.     "  Yuh'r  th'  doctor." 

Uncoiling  his  rope,  he  walked  forward  a  few 
steps  and  with  a  quick  jerk  sent  the  loop  over 
Freckles'  neck.  The  horse  gave  a  slight  start,  and 
then  stood  perfectly  still. 

Montana  threw  the  saddle  on  and  tightened  the 
cinch,  while  Donald  slipped  on  the  bridle.  Freckles 
made  several  vicious  snaps  at  him,  but  he  didn't 
think  much  of  that.  It  was  only  after  Montana  had 
removed  the  rope  and  he  stood  facing  the  horse  with 
the  reins  tight,  that  he  had  a  curious  feeling  that 
something  was  going  to  happen. 

Then  he  saw,  for  the  first  time,  that  every  man  in 
camp  was  in  the  corral.  They  all  seemed  to  be  busy 
at  something  but  Donald  noticed  that  each  one  had 
an  eye  cocked  in  his  direction,  and  he  realized  that 
they  were  waiting  to  see  some  fun  when  he  got  on 
Freckles'  back. 

It  wasn't  a  pleasant  idea  at  all,  and  he  wished 
there  was  some  way  of  getting  out  of  it  and  taking 
another  horse.  But  that,  of  course,  was  impossible : 
it  was  too  late  now,  and  he  would  have  to  go 
through  with  it. 


Poloma  Camp  79 

"  Might  as  well  come  now  as  any  time,"  he 
thought,  as  he  tightened  his  grip  on  the  reins. 
"  Anyhow,  I'll  stick  on  as  long  as  I  can,  and  show 
them  I'm  not  afraid." 

He  turned  the  stirrup  and  put  his  foot  into  it. 
There  was  an  instant's  pause,  and  then  with  a  quick 
spring  he  was  in  the  saddle,  and  as  luck  would  have 
it,  his  right  foot  slipped  easily  into  the  other  stirrup. 
Then  he  took  a  good  grip  on  the  reins  and  waited. 


CHAPTER  VIII 
PRINCIPALLY  CALVES 

FOR  a  moment  Donald  thought  nothing  was 
coming  off,  for  Freckles  stood  like  a  statue. 
Then  suddenly  his  head  went  down  out  of  sight; 
his  back  went  up,  and  the  boy  felt  as  though  the 
ground  had  come  up  and  struck  him.  If  he  had  not 
been  ready  for  something  of  the  sort,  he  could  never 
have  stayed  on  five  seconds.  As  it  was,  he  was 
lifted  a  good  two  feet  out  of  the  saddle,  and  dropped 
back  into  it  with  a  thud  which  jarred  every  tooth  in 
his  head.  He  had  just  time  to  get  another  grip  with 
his  knees,  when  the  horse  tried  it  again. 

"  Get  a  holt !  "  Bronco  yelled  from  his  position  on 
the  top  rail  of  the  fence.  "  Hang  your  spurs  into 
him!" 

Donald  had  forgotten  that  he  had  spurs,  but  at 
this  reminder,  he  jammed  them  into  the  horse's 
flanks  and  gave  him  a  couple  of  good  licks  with  the 

leather  quirt  which  dangled  at  his  wrist. 

80 


Principally  Calves  8 1 

With  a  snort  of  rage  Freckles  changed  his  tactics, 
and  bucking  again,  he  pitched  suddenly  to  one  side, 
coming  down  with  his  fore  feet  perfectly  rigid. 
Then  he  repeated  the  performance,  this  time  sway- 
ing to  the  other  side.  With  the  combined  hold  of 
spurs,  knees,  and  hands,  Donald  managed  to  keep  his 
seat  for  a  couple  of  minutes,  but  he  felt  his  grip 
giving  way,  and  knew  it  couldn't  last  long.  Then 
he  lost  one  stirrup  and  the  next  jump  sent  him  fly- 
ing over  the  horse's  head. 

He  landed  on  his  shoulder  fifteen  feet  away, 
turned  a  complete  somersault,  and  scrambled  up 
again  in  time  to  grab  the  bridle  before  Freckles 
could  bolt.  Then  he  stood  there  for  a  minute,  trying 
to  get  his  breath. 

"  Yuh  ain't  bad  fur  a  greenhorn,"  Montana 
drawled.  "  Better  giv'  him  up  fur  t'day  an'  take 
another  one." 

"  I'll  just  try  him  once  more,"  Donald  gasped, 
"  and  see  if  I  can  do  any  better." 

A  moment  later  he  was  in  the  saddle  again,  and 
this  time  he  lasted  about  three  minutes  before  he 
went  flying  into  the  air — miles,  it  seemed  to  him — 


82  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

to  land,  stunned  and  a  little  dazed,  on  his  side  some 
distance  away. 

When  he  got  up  Montana  was  taking  off  the 
saddle. 

"I  reckon  that'll  be  about  all  to-day,"  he 
remarked,  as  he  sent  Freckles  flying  with  a  cut  of 
his  rope. 

"  I  guess  it  will,"  Donald  said  ruefully,  rubbing 
his  knuckles,  which  had  been  badly  skinned  on  a 
rock.  "  I  didn't  know  a  horse  could  act  up  like  that. 
Say :  just  pick  out  the  quietest  one  in  the  bunch,  will 
you  ?  "  he  added  as  Montana  shook  out  his  rope.  "  I 
don't  want  any  more  pitching  ones  to-day." 

"  Yuh'll  git  used  to  'em  pretty  quick,"  Montana 
laughed.  "  Won't  he,  Bronco?  " 

"  He  sure  will,"  Bronco  answered,  as  he  led  out 
his  own  horse.  "  He  hung  on  longer'n  I  thought  he 
would  this  time." 

Donald  had  no  trouble  with  Monte,  a  gentle,  easy- 
going bay;  and  ten  minutes  later  he  and  Montana 
left  camp,  and  struck  south  along  the  fence.  All 
that  morning  they  rode,  stopping  now  and  then  to 
nail  up  fallen  wire  with  staples,  and  Donald  soon 


Principally   Calves  83 

learned  that  so  long  as  a  fence  was  standing  up  it 
was  all  right.  There  were  stretches  of  this  fence 
where  it  seemed  to  him  to  be  tottering  on  its  last 
legs  and  hardly  worth  repairing,  but  Montana  as- 
sured him  that  it  was  good  for  a  long  time  yet,  and 
that  all  he  need  think  about  was  not  to  have  too 
much  wire  dangling,  and  not  to  let  the  fence  fall 
down  altogether. 

They  were  back  in  camp  before  three,  and  after 
dinner,  Donald  went  out  to  the  corral,  where  there 
were  two  horses,  and  proceeded  to  drive  them  into 
a  state  of  frantic  excitement  by  his  strenuous,  but 
unskilful  efforts  to  rope  them. 

That  evening  the  men  were  noticeably  more  socia- 
ble. His  performance  with  Freckles  seemed  to 
have  raised  him  considerably  in  their  estimation, 
and  showed  that,  though  a  tenderfoot,  he  had  his 
share  of  pluck  and  determination. 

Donald  arose  early,  and  as  soon  as  the  horses  had 
been  rounded  up  into  the  corral,  he  took  his  rope 
and  went  out.  Shutting  the  gate  behind  him,  he 
made  a  loop  nearly  large  enough  to  go  around  the 
bunk  house,  and  advanced  upon  the  horses. 


84  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

After  several  throws,  he  accidentally  got  it  around 
Coyote's  neck,  and  started  to  lead  him  out  of  the 
corral.  Coyote  did  not  like  to  be  led,  and  pulled 
restively  on  the  rope,  and  then,  as  luck  would  have 
it,  just  as  Donald  swung  the  gate  open,  the  other 
horses  with  one  accord,  made  a  dash  for  it,  and 
pushing  through  in  a  body,  galloped  off  over  the 
prairie. 

"  Now  I've  done  it,"  Donald  exclaimed  in  dismay. 
"  Won't  I  catch  it,  though !  "  _ 

He  saddled  up  as  quickly  as  he  could,  and  \  tying 
Coyote  to  the  f ence,|  hurried  over  to  the  bunk  house 
to  tell  Montana. 

The  latter  met  him  at  the  door  and  took  in  the 
situation  at  a  glance. 

"  Who  let  th'  horses  out  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  I  was  leading  Coyote  out,"  Donald  explained : 
"and  they  got  through  the  gate  before  I  could  stop 
them." 

"  Better  round  'em  up  again,  then,  before  th'  boys 
git  wise,"  Montana  remarked  significantly. 

Donald  hadn't  the  least  idea  how  that  was  done, 
but  realizing  that  it  was  up  to  him  to  do  something, 


Principally  Calves  85 

he  opened  the  corral  gate  wide,  and  jumping  on 
Coyote,  started  at  a  gallop  to  where  the  horses  were 
grazing  some  distance  away.  Fortunately  Coyote 
knew  more  about  it  than  he  did,  and  when  they  ap- 
proached the  horses  he  commenced  to  circle  around 
and  around  them,  gradually  bunching  them  closer 
together  and  slowly  driving  them  toward  the  corral. 
In  what  seemed  to  Donald  an  incredibly  short  time, 
they  were  back  inside  the  fence,  and  the  gate 
shut  before  any  one  seemed  to  have  noticed  their 
absence. 

Montana  went  out  with  him  again  that  morning 
for  three  or  four  hours,  and  taking  him  to  a  couple 
of  windmills,  showed  him  how  to  grease  them 
and  tighten  up  the  various  boks.  Then  he  left  him, 
telling  him  he  had  better  ride  fence  for  the  rest  of 
the  day,  and  pointing  out  the  direction  in  which  it 
lay. 

Having  found  the  fence,  Donald  rode  slowly 
along  it,  revolving  in  his  mind  the  various  interest- 
ing happenings  of  the  past  few  days,  and  wondering 
how  soon  he  would  be  able  to  stick  on  Freckles  and 
to  throw  a  rope  with  any  degree  of  accuracy. 


86  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

He  had  not  gone  far  when  he  came  upon  a  small 
bunch  of  cows  and  calves,  scratching  their  backs  on 
the  fence.  He  at  once  resolved  to  get  some  prac- 
tice, and  taking  down  his  rope,  he  uncoiled  it  and 
threw  it  at  the  bunch  at  random. 

It  fell  to  the  ground,  and  a  calf  promptly  floun- 
dered into  the  loop  with  both  hind  feet.  Highly 
elated,  Donald  pulled  it  tight,  and  then  realized 
that,  having  roped  the  beast,  he  didn't  in  the  least 
know  what  to  do  with  it.  The  calf — a  robust  year- 
ling— at  once  set  up  a  bawling  and  its  mother  rushed 
to  the  rescue,  followed  by  most  of  the  others,  who 
crowded  around,  stepping  on  the  rope  and  getting  in 
front  of  the  horse,  until  Donald  was  at  his  wits'  end 
to  know  what  to  do.  He  was  afraid  to,  dismount, 
for  fear  the  cows  would  knock  him  down  and 
Coyote  might  run  away:  so  he  began  to  pull  and 
jerk  on  the  rope  in  hopes  that  he  could  get  it  off 
that  way.  After  some  little  time  one  leg  did  come 
out,  leaving  the  animal  caught  by  the  other,  and  in 
an  even  worse  position  than  before. 

For  more  than  an  hour  he  pulled  and  hauled, 
growing  hotter  and  madder  with  each  minute,  and 


Principally   Calves  87 

at  last  he  worked  his  horse  up  close  to  the  calf,  and 
reaching  down,  managed  to  pull  the  rope  off.  Then 
he  turned  around  and  made  tracks  for  camp. 

He  was  the  last  one  in,  and  as  he  entered  the 
bunk  house,  he  found  every  one  very  quiet.  He  sat 
down  on  his  bed  and  presently  Ben,  one  of  the  boys, 
said  casually : 

"  Can  yuh  rope  any,  Pete?  " 

"  Not  so's  you  could  notice  it." 

"  Couldn't  yuh  rope  a  calf  ?  " 

Donald  grew  red  in  the  face.  He  guessed  what 
was  coming,  but  he  tried  to  bluff  it  out. 

"  No,  I  couldn't." 

"  Then  who  roped  th'  calf  yuh  was  play  in'  with 
this  afternoon?"  Ben  inquired  solemnly.  "Don't 
yuh  know  yuh  shouldn't  keep  a  calf  on  th'  rope  so 
long?  "  he  went  on  without  moving  a  muscle  of  his 
face.  "  It  hurts  their  feelin's  an'  makes  'em  lose 
weight  worryin' ! " 

"  Blamed  old  calf ! "  Donald  exclaimed  crossly. 
"  I  didn't  want  to  keep  it  on  the  rope.  I  couldn't 
get  it  off." 

There  was  a  shout  of  laughter  at  this,  and  for 


88  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

days  Donald  was  continually  hearing  references  to 
his  cruel  treatment  of  dumb  animals. 

When  the  laughter  had  subsided,  Kentucky  Bill, 
a  big,  raw-boned,  easy-going  fellow,  spoke  up  from 
his  corner. 

"  Who  let  th'  horses  out  this  mornin'  ? "  he 
inquired. 

"  I  did,"  Donald  answered. 

"  Didn't  yuh  know  no  better'n  t'  do  a  thing  like 
that  ?  "  Kentucky  went  on.  "  Yuh'd  oughter  git 
chapped  for  it." 

"  Kangaroo  Court !  Kangaroo  Court !  "  Bronco 
yelled.  "  Get  busy." 

Montana  George  was  appointed  judge,  and 
Donald  was  at  once  sentenced  to  ten  licks  of  the 
chaps  for  cruelty  to  the  calf,  and  twenty  for  letting 
the  horses  out.  When  asked  whether  he  would  take 
them  or  fight  for  them,  he  foolishly  chose  to  fight, 
and  after  a  short  but  brisk  wrestling  match,  he  was 
downed  by  Kentucky's  sheer  weight.  As  a  result, 
he  had  to  take  half  as  many  licks  again  for  being 
downed,  and  when  it  was  over,  he  felt  rather  sore. 
He  had  the  consolation,  however,  of  seeing  every 


Principally  Calves  89 

one  else  get  a  dose  of  it  in  varying  quantities,  for 
trivial  or  imaginary  offenses. 

When  he  came  in  from  riding  fence  next  after- 
noon, Kentucky  met  Donald  at  the  corral  gate,  just 
as  he  was  about  to  dismount. 

"  Hold  up  a  minute,  Pete,"  he  said.  "  I've  got 
a  calf  down  th'  fence  a  ways  t'  kill  fur  beef,  an'  I 
need  a  little  help.  Come  along  down,  will  yuh?  " 

Donald  looked  at  him  suspiciously. 

"  What  do  you  want  me  to  do?  "  he  asked. 

"  I've  got  him  roped  around  th'  neck  an'  tied  to 
th'  fence,"  Bill  explained.  "  I  want  yuh  t'  hold  him 
down  'till  I  git  th'  rope  on  m'  saddle.  He's  on  th' 
peck,  an'  if  I  try  t'  handle  him  alone  he'll  knock 
me  down." 

"  What's  on  the  peck?  "  Donald  asked  curiously. 

"  Mad :  crazy  mad.  He'll  run  after  yuh  if  yuh 
come  near  him." 

"  Oh;  so  you  want  him  to  run  after  me  instead," 
Donald  remarked  shrewdly.  "  No,  thanks." 

"  No,  I  don't :  honest  Injun,"  Bill  protested  fer- 
vently. "  I  jest  want  yuh  t'  hold  his  head  down 
while  I  git  m'  rope  shifted." 


9°  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

After  a  little  more  argument,  Donald  finally 
agreed  to  go  with  him,  and  they  started  out.  As 
they  approached  the  calf — a  robust  yearling  bull — 
he  rushed  at  them  full  speed  until  the  rope  tightened 
and  he  went  head  over  heels.  Then  Bill  took  Don- 
ald's rope,  and  catching  him  around  the  fore  legs, 
threw  him  down,  and  both  of  them  sat  on  his  head. 

"  NOW  yuh  hold  him  while  I  git  m'  rope  on  m' 
saddle,"  Bill  wheedled.  "  Aw  gwan :  he  won't  hurt 
yuh ;  he  can't  git  up." 

Foolishly,  Donald  did. 

For  a  minute  the  calf  was  quiet :  then,  just  as  Bill 
had  the  end  of  the  rope  in  his  hand  and  was  climb- 
ing into  his  saddle,  the  animal  began  to  struggle 
violently  and  by  sheer  strength  rose  slowly  to  its 
feet,  Donald  clasping  it  tight  around  the  neck.  For 
a  few  minutes  they  stood  there,  swaying  back  and 
forth,  the  calf  climbing  all  over  Donald,  and  doing 
its  best  to  get  away,  and  the  latter  holding  on  like 
grim  death,  while  Kentucky  Bill  sat  helpless  in  the 
saddle,  doubled  up  with  laughter. 

At  last  Donald  couldn't  hold  out  any  longer,  and 
letting  the  beast  go,  he  fled  for  his  horse.  The 


Principally  Calves  91 

calf  started  in  hot  pursuit  and  Bill  gave  him  just 
enough  rope  to  keep  about  two  feet  behind  Donald. 
To  cap  the  climax,  Monte  became  alarmed  at  the 
approaching  tumult,  and  tossing  his  head,  started 
for  the  corral. 

Donald  ran  until  he  hadn't  an  ounce  of  wind  left, 
and  Bill  was  so  amused  at  the  sight  that  he  could 
scarcely  sit  his  horse.  When  the  boy  finally  stopped, 
he  pulled  the  calf  up. 

"  You're  a  nice  one,"  Donald  sputtered.  "  Wait 
till  I  pay  you  up  for  this." 

"I  wisht  yuh  c'd  see  yuh'rself,"  Bill  sputtered; 
"  it's  awful  funny." 

Donald  had  no  doubt  it  was — to  Bill;  but  he 
didn't  see  it  that  way.  Fortunately  the  corral  was 
close  at  hand,  and  a  minute  later  he  bolted  in  and 
slammed  the  gate  behind  him. 

"  Lemme  in,"  Bill  said  as  he  rode  up.  "  I  can't 
git  off  m'  horse." 

"  Not  on  your  life,"  Donald  said.  "  You  can 
open  the  gate  or  stay  outside."  And  he  took  up  his 
position  on  the  top  rail  of  the  fence  to  await  develop- 
ments. 


92  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

Finding  that  neither  threats  or  cajolery  could 
induce  either  Donald  or  Bronco,  who  was  an  amused 
spectator,  to  do  anything,  Bill  rode  up  to  the  gate, 
and  waiting  until  he  thought  the  calf  wasn't  look- 
ing, he  slipped  off  and  threw  it  open.  He  held  the 
end  of  the  rope  in  his  hand,  intending  to  fasten  it 
to  the  fence,  inside,  and  then  entice  the  calf  in;  but 
before  he  could  do  so,  the  animal,  not  waiting  to  be 
enticed,  rushed  at  him  full  tilt,  and  rolling  him  over 
on  the  ground,  fell  on  him.  The  moment  he  got 
up,  he  was  knocked  down  again,  and  it  was  some 
minutes  before  he  could  break  away  and  take  refuge 
on  the  fence. 

Donald  was  now  thoroughly  enjoying  the  situa- 
tion. 

"  Say,  Bill,"  he  called.  "  Do  it  again,  won't  you? 
It's  awful  funny." 

"  Shut  up,"  Bill  growled.  "  I  wisht  I  had  m' 
six-shooter  here;  I'd  settle  his  hash." 

Montana  came  along  just  then,  and  Bill  borrowed 
his  Colt,  and  proceeded  to  shoot  up  everything  in 
sight  except  the  calf,  to  the  extreme  amusement  of 
the  two  boys,  who  made  sarcastic  comments  about 


Principally  Calves  93 

his  marksmanship.  Finally  a  chance  shot  laid  the 
animal  low,  and  they  came  down  from  their  perches. 
That  evening  Donald  charged  Bill  with  running 
him  with  a  calf,  for  which  he  got  twenty  licks  with 
the  chaps,  and  ten  more  for  not  being  able  to  shoot. 
Donald  himself  got  ten  for  being  afraid  of  the  calf, 
but  he  decided  that  he  was  still  ahead  of  the  game. 


CHAPTER  IX 


AJOUT  five  o'clock  the  next  afternoon,  Alkali 
appeared  at  camp  with  some  orders  from  Bob. 
While  they  were  eating  supper  he  remarked : 

"Wai,  fellows;  yuh'd  ought  t'  have  some  fun 
now;  Chico'll  be  down  t'morrow." 

"Who's  Chico?"  Bronco  asked.  "  Yuh  don't 
mean  that  horse  up  t'  th'  ranch  ?  " 

"Didn't  Pete  tell  yuh  about  him?"  Alkali  said. 
"  Oh,  that's  so ;  it  was  after  he  left.  Why,  that's 
the  name  we  gave  that  windy  gazabo  Claude.  He 
tried  t'  ride  Chico  a  couple  uh  days  ago  an'  got 
thrown  twict  before  he  got  a  leg  over ;  so  right  away 
we  named  him  after  th'  horse.  Claude  Doo-val," 
he  went  on  with  lingering  emphasis.  "  Ain't  that  a 
lovely  name?  An'  he  sure  fits  it." 

Donald  started  off  bright  and  early  next  morning 
along  the  fence.  So  far  he  had  ridden  very  little  of 
it  and  he  made  up  his  mind  to  accomplish  some- 

94 


Claude  Bags  Snipe  95 

thing  that  day.  Fortunately,  nothing  happened  to 
delay  him.  He  ran  across  several  bunches  of  cattle, 
but  he  studiously  avoided  the  temptation  to  try  his 
hand  at  roping,  and  when  he  turned  back  at  t^o 
o'clock,  though  he  had  spent  some  little  time  nailing 
up  wire,  he  figured  that  he  must  have  covered  at 
least  fifteen  miles. 

When  he  reached  camp,  the  first  thing  that  met 
his  eyes  was  the  newly  christened  Chico  lounging  in 
the  doorway  of  the  bunk  house. 

"  Hello,  Chico,"  he  said,  as  he  rode  up.  "  When 
did  you  come  in  ?  " 

"  About  two  o'clock,"  Claude  answered  shortly. 
"  This  is  a  nice  hole,  this  is,"  he  went  on  peevishly. 
"  I've  bee4i  here  two  hours  and  not  a  thing  to  eat." 

"  That's  too  bad,"  Donald  said.  "  Couldn't  you 
find  anything  ?  " 

"  Find  anything !  I  didn't  look.  I  thought  they 
had  a  regular  dinner :  that's  what  Alkali  said." 

Donald  suppressed  a  grin.  Evidently  Alkali  had 
already  gotten  in  some  of  his  fine  work. 

"  Well,  we  do,"  he  said,  "  whenever  there's  any- 
one to  cook  it.  I  guess  no  one's  in  yet.'* 


96  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

He  got  the  fire  started,  and  potatoes  boiling ;  and 
very  soon  Alkali,  Bronco,  and  Kentucky  Bill  came 
in  together.  At  the  sight  of  Claude,  Alkali's  eyes 
brightened,  and  he  greeted  him  with  that  mixture  of 
extreme  cordiality  and  deference  which  always 
made  those  who  knew  him  suspicious. 

Claude  was  still  cross  at  having  to  wait  so  long 
for  his  dinner,  but  he  managed  to  do  very  well  in 
a  conversational  way,  and  quite  lived  up  to  the 
picture  Donald  had  given  of  him.  Presently  Mon- 
tana George  and  the  others  came  in,  and  they  all 
pitched  in  to  the  dinner. 

"Wai,  fellows,"  Alkali  said,  his  mouth  full  of 
t>acon.  "  Bagged  any  snipe  lately  ?  " 

Donald  pricked  up  his  ears.  Was  this  some  new 
joke  of  Alkali's,  he  wondered.  Bronco  also  looked 
puzzled. 

"  Not  lately,"  he  said. 

"  I  move  we  go  out  to-night,"  Alkali  went  on, 
full  of  enthusiasm.  "  Yuh've  bagged  snipe,  uh 
course,  Chico  ?  " 

"  Bagged  snipe,"  Claude  said  blankly.  "  What 
do  you  mean  ?  " 


Claude  Bags  Snipe  97 

"Ain't  yuh  never  bagged  no  snipe?"  Alkali 
enquired  in  a  tone  of  pained  surprise.  "  Why, 
where  yuh  bin?  It's  one  uh  th'  greatest  sports 
goin'." 

"  Oh,  of  course  I  have,"  Claude  said,  in  the  tone 
of  one  who  has  momentarily  forgotten  a  trivial 
detail.  "  Often,  in  Wyoming ;  but  it's  so  long  ago 
I  had  almost  forgotten  it.  How  do  you  do  it 
here?" 

"  Same  as  anywhere  else,  I  reckon,"  Alkali 
rejoined.  "We'll  go  to-night;  that's  what  we'll 
do." 

So,  as  soon  as  supper  was  over,  everyone  saddled 
up  with  remarkable  alacrity  and  started  off  across 
the  prairie  to  the  eastward. 

"  What's  he  up  to  ?  "  Donald  whispered  to  Bronco, 
who  rode  beside  him. 

"  Search  me,"  the  other  replied.  "  It's  some  joke 
he's  goin'  t'  play  on  Chico." 

They  rode  along,  laughing  and  fooling,  for  about 
four  miles,  when  they  reached  the  beginning  of  a 
long  narrow  draw. 

"  We'll  have  t'  leave  th'  horses  here,"  Alkali  said, 


98  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

slipping  to  the  ground.  "  An'  go  th'  rest  uh  th'  way 
on  foot." 

They  hobbled  the  horses,  and  then  Alkali  led 
the  way  into  the  draw,  cautioning  them  not  to  make 
any  noise  for  fear  of  frightening  the  snipe.  The 
draw  descended  abruptly  and  ended,  some  five  hun- 
dred yards  from  the  point  where  they  had  left  their 
horses,  in  the  steep  walls  of  a  small  canyon,  seventy 
or  eighty  feet  high. 

"  Here  we  are,"  Alkali  said  in  a  hoarse  whisper. 
"  Yuh'd  better  hold  th'  bag,  Chico." 

He  unrolled  a  bundle  which  he  had  carried  under 
his  arm,  and  disclosed  a  gunny  sack  which  might 
have  held  a  couple  of  bushels. 

"  What  do  I  do  with  it  ?  "  Claude  asked. 

"  Yuh  stand  here  'longside  uh  this  path,"  Alkali 
said  solemnly :  "  an'  hold  th'  bag  wide  open,  that 
way ;  with  th'  bottom  jest  touchin'  th'  ground.  Then 
we'll  make  a  circle  an'  start  up  th'  snipe;  they're 
roostin'  all  'round  here  now.  They  can't  see  in  th' 
dark,  yuh  know,  an'  when  they  git  frightened  they 
start  an'  run  straight  ahead,  an'  a  lot  of  'em'll  run 
right  in  t'  th'  bag.  Savvy  ?  " 


Claude  Bags  Snipe  99 

"  I  see,"  Claude  said,  taking  the  bag.  "  How 
long  will  it  take  you  to  start  them  ?  " 

"  'Bout  half  an  hour.  Be  sure  yuh  keep  th'  edge 
uh  th'  bag  on  th'  ground,  an'  don't  let  any  of  'em 
git  past.  Come  on,  fellows." 

By  this  time  it  was  quite  dark,  and  once  out  of 
sight  of  Claude,  he  broke  into  a  run  in  the  direction 
of  the  horses,  followed  by  the  others.  When  they 
reached  them,  Alkali  was  doubled  up  with  laughter. 

"  Gee,  what  an  easy  mark !  "  he  gasped.  "  It's 
like  takin'  money  from  a  child.  Beat  it,  fellows, 
before  he  gits  wise." 

There  was  a  rush  for  the  horses  and  they  started 
back  at  a  gallop,  Alkali  carefully  leading  Claude's 
mount.  Once  in  camp,  they  unsaddled  in  a  hurry, 
and  pulling  off  their  clothes,  piled  into  bed  as  quickly 
as  they  could.  For  more  than  an  hour  they  waited 
expectantly,  but  Claude  did  not  show  up.  Then  one 
by  one  they  dropped  off,  and  by  ten  o'clock  everyone 
was  asleep,  and  Claude's  bed  was  still  unoccupied. 

While  they  were  eating  breakfast  next  morning, 
he  appeared :  mussed,  disheveled,  and  glowering,  but 
still  carrying  the  bag.  Without  a  word  he  threw 


ioo  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

this  to  the  ground,  and  getting  his  plate  and  cup, 
helped  himself  to  some  breakfast. 

"  Git  any  snipe  ?  "  Alkali  inquired  politely. 

"  Snipe !    Humph !  "  snorted  Claude  scornfully. 

"  You  must  have  got  out  uh  th'  wrong  side  of  the 
bed,"  Bronco  said  sweetly.  "  Seems  like  you  was 
sort  of  grouchy." 

"  Oh,  shut  up !  "  Claude  burst  out.  "  That  was  a 
nice  trick  to  play:  run  off  with  a  man's  horse.  I 
near  froze  t'  death." 

There  was  a  shout  of  laughter,  in  which  every  one 
joined,  particularly  Alkali,  who  was  very  much 
tickled  at  the  success  of  his  joke,  and  sorry  that 
his  return  to  the  ranch  that  afternoon  made  it 
impossible  for  him  to  have  any  more  fun  with 
Chico. 

Every  morning  Donald  arose  before  the  others 
and  took  a  fall  out  of  Freckles.  It  was  extremely 
hard  work,  and  his  progress  seemed  very  slow,  but 
at  the  end  of  a  couple  of  weeks  he  found  that  he 
could  stick  on  for  fifteen  minutes  at  a  time,  and 
after  that  it  was  easier;  for  as  soon  as  Freckles  got 
tired,  he  stopped  his  tricks  and  behaved  like  any 


Claude  Bags  Snipe  101 

normal  horse.  Bronco  told  him  that  the  animal 
never  acted  up  in  any  other  way,  and  that  it  was 
his  opinion  that  if  he  were  ridden  oftener,  there 
wouldn't  be  any  trouble  at  all  with  him. 

The  afternoons  were  usually  spent  in  practising 
with  a  rope.  For  a  time  Donald  tried  it  on  the 
horses  in  the  corral,  but  Montana  suddenly  appeared 
one  day  when  he  had  worked  them  up  into  the  usual 
state  of  frenzied  excitement,  and  told  him  to  cut 
it  out. 

"  If  yuh  want  t'  practice,"  he  said,  "  drive  in  a 
few  calves,  but  don't  be  throwin'  no  rope  around 
them  horses.  Yuh'd  ought  t'  know  better." 

Donald  didn't  bother  to  run  in  any  calves :  it  was 
too  much  trouble;  but  he  often  came  across  small 
bunches  of  cattle  while  riding  fence,  and  he  cer- 
tainly worked  them  to  the  limit;  so  that  at  the  end 
of  three  weeks'  time  he  could  do  fairly  well  at  it, 
though  he  was  still  very  far  from  being  an  expert, 
or  even  sure  of  himself. 

It  was  now  well  into  October,  and  the  weather 
was  perfect.  Glorious,  clear  days  with  just  enough 
snap  in  the  air  to  send  the  blood  coursing  swiftly 


102  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

through  the  veins  of  man  and  horse,  and  make  even 
riding  fence  a  pleasure;  followed  by  cool,  frosty 
nights  when  one  could  comfortably  use  all  the  bed- 
ding he  could  get. 

Donald  was  enjoying  the  life  even  more  than  he 
had  expected.  He  was  beginning  to  feel  as  though 
he  was  really  one  of  the  boys:  he  was  learning 
rapidly,  and  the  term  "  tenderfoot "  was  much  less 
often  applied  to  him.  But  more  than  anything  else, 
he  felt  that  he  had  made  a  place  for  himself;  that 
he  was  really  doing  something  and  being  of  some 
use  in  the  world.  Of  course  he  missed  his  father 
and  Sally,  and  all  the  people  at  home — missed  them 
more  than  he  cared  to  admit,  even  to  himself.  His 
only  consolations  were  the  frequent  letters  which 
came  from  his  sister,  who  was  still  unreconciled  to 
his  absence.  His  father  did  not  know  where  he  was, 
and  had  made  no  inquiries. 

One  evening,  late  in  October,  he  came  into  camp 
pretty  well  tired  out.  He  had  ridden  Freckles  that 
day  for  the  first  time  on  fence,  and  had  found  the 
experience  rather  trying.  Freckles  went  well 
enough  while  in  motion,  but  seemed  to  have  a  rooted 


Claude  Bags  Snipe  103 

objection  to  his  stopping  to  nail  up  wire.  The 
result  had  been  a  constant  struggle  between  the  two, 
punctuated  by  innumerable  tumbles,  and  Donald  was 
quite  ready  for  bed  as  soon  as  he  had  finished 
supper. 

It  seemed  as  though  he  had  scarcely  dropped  off, 
when  he  was  awakened  by  some  one  shaking  him 
roughly.  Opening  his  eyes  he  looked  up  into  the 
face  of  Bronco,  who  was  bending  over  him. 

"  Wake  up,  Pete,"  the  latter  said  sharply.  "  Get 
a  move  on:  the  prairie's  on  fire  an'  we've  got  t' 
get  out." 


CHAPTER   X 
FIGHTING  A  PRAIRIE  FIRE 

DONALD  sprang  to  his  feet  with  a  quick  mo- 
mentary tightening  at  his  throat.  A  prairie 
fire  certainly  had  an  unpleasant  sound,  and  as  he 
dragged  on  his  clothes  he«wondered  vaguely  what 
he  would  have  to  do. 

The  bunk  house  was  all  astir.  The  men  were 
hurrying  into  their  clothes  or  hunting  frantically 
for  something  they  couldn't  find,  and  in  the  uncer- 
tain light  of  the  single  lantern  he  saw  Alkali,  cov- 
ered with  dust  from  hard  riding,  talking  to  Mon- 
tana. 

"  Where  is  it?  "  he  asked  Bronco,  who  was  swear- 
ing at  his  boots  for  not  going  on  easily. 

"  Near  South  Camp,  'bout  thirty  miles  west  of 
here,"  Bronco  answered.  "  Don't  wear  your  chaps : 
they'd  likely  want  you  t'  beat  out  th'  fire  with  'em." 

As  the  articles  in  question  had  only  arrived  from 

Pueblo  a  week  before,  and  were  the  pride  of  his 

104 


Fighting  a  Prairie  Fire  105 

heart,  Donald  was  very  glad  of  the  advice,  and 
made  haste  to  stow  them  away  in  his  bed. 

"  Here,  Pete,"  called  Montana  sharply.  "  Yuh 
an'  Bronco  git  out  an'  load  up  a  couple  uh  horses 
with  brooms  an'  shovels  an'  bags.  Saddle  up  as 
quick  as  yuh  kin  an'  git  ready  t'  start.  For  th'  lord's 
sake,  Chico ;  ain't  yuh  dressed  yet  ?  Git  a  move  on. 
This  ain't  no  picnic  you're  goin'  to." 

Claude  grumbled  something  about  not  finding  his 
boots. 

"  They're  as  big  as  all  out-doors,"  Montana 
returned.  "  Yuh'd  ought  t'  find  'em  easy  enough. 
Git  busy  an'  don't  talk  s'  much." 

As  they  hurried  out  of  the  door,  Donald  saw  that 
the  sky  to  the  northwest  was  all  aglow  with  a  deep, 
ominous  red. 

"  Jimminy !  that  looks  closer  than  thirty  miles," 

1¥ 

he  said  to  his  companion. 

"  I  guess  not,"  Bronco  replied.  "  You  c'n  see  a 
fire  pretty  far  at  night." 

Kentucky  Bill  had  just  rounded  up  the  horses, 
and  Bronco  caught  two  of  them  while  Donald  got 
the  brooms  and  other  things  out  of  the  tool  house. 


io6  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

They  tied  these  into  bundles  and  fastened  them 
securely  on  the  horses'  backs,  and  then  each  of  them 
took  one  of  the  combination  hammers  and  wire 
cutters  they  used  in  riding  fence,  some  staples,  and 
a  length  of  rope  about  thirty  feet  long. 

"May  come  in  useful,"  Bronco  said;  "an'  you 
always  want  a  spare  rope.  Now  let's  saddle  up." 

Donald  decided  to  ride  Coyote.  He  was  the  most 
reliable  all-around  horse  in  his  mount,  and  he  hadn't 
been  out  in  two  days;  so,  roping  him,  he  threw  on 
the  saddle  and  adjusted  it  with  a  speed  and  thor- 
oughness which  surprised  himself. 

By  this  time  the  other  men  were  all  in  the  corral 
saddling  up,  and  as  he  stood  by  his  horse  waiting, 
Donald  was  amused  to  see  Claude  struggling  to 
fasten  a  big  bundle  on  a  pack  horse  he  had  caught. 
At  last  he  went  over  to  help  him  and  tied  it  firmly 
on,  while  Claude  roped  and  saddled  his  horse;  also 
not  without  difficulty. 

"Gee!  How  about  th'  line  wagon?"  Montana 
said  to  Alkali,  as  they  rode  out  of  the  gate.  "  I 
clean  forgot  it." 

"  Wai,  I  wouldn't  remember  it  now,"  the  latter 


Fighting  a  Prairie  Fire  107 

said  airily.  "  Bob  said  yuh  was  sure  t'  bring  it 
'cause  he  wanted  th'  plow;  but  it's  a  deuce  of  a 
thing  t'  drive,  an'  th'  plow  ain't  much  good  any- 
how. Tell  him  th'  harness  is  broke." 

"  All  right ;  I  s'pose  I  kin,"  Montana  said  doubt- 
fully. "  Where's  Chico  ?  "  he  demanded  suddenly. 
"  Oh,  there  yuh  are.  You  drive  th'  pack  horses," 
he  went  on  a  little  maliciously ;  "  an'  don't  hang 
behind  or  yuh'll  hear  from  me !  " 

Claude's  loudly  expressed  objections  were 
drowned  in  the  clatter  of  the  horses'  hoofs,  as  they 
started  off  at  a  gallop,  and  he  had  to  drive  the  pack 
horses  or  leave  them  behind.  Not  quite  daring  to 
do  that,  he  bunched  them  up  and  got  them  going, 
and  all  the  way  to  South  Camp,  he  trailed  along 
behind  the  others,  giving  vent  to  a  continuous 
stream  of  complaints  about  his  hard  luck  and  the 
way  he  was  imposed  upon. 

Donald  and  Bronco  rode  knee  to  knee,  and  the 
former  felt  a  sort  of  wild  exultation  as  they  gal- 
loped at  full  speed  across  the  silent  prairie.  There 
was  an  indefinable  fascination  in  that  rush  through 
the  darkness,  with  the  keen  air  cutting  his  face  and 


io8  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

stinging  his  blood  to  fire;  the  measured  thuds  of  the 
horses'  hoofs  in  his  ears;  and  before  him  that  line 
of  lurid  red,  growing  brighter  and  clearer  with 
every  mile. 

On  they  rode — and  on,  and  on,  without  a  halt. 
Presently  Donald  noticed  the  pungent  odor  of  burn- 
ing grass,  which  grew  stronger  as  they  proceeded, 
and  soon  the  ashes  began  to  float  down  upon  them ; 
fine  particles  of  black  and  gray,  which  covered  man 
and  horse  alike  with  dirty  smudge. 

They  were  heading  a  little  south  of  the  line  of 
flame,  and  Donald  found  that  they  were  going  first 
to  South  Camp  for  fresh  horses.  He  was  very 
glad  of  this,  for  it  didn't  seem  to  him  that  theirs 
would  be  of  much  use  after  such  hard  riding. 

From  scraps  of  conversation  which  drifted  back 
to  him  from  where  Alkali  was  riding  in  front,  he 
gathered  that  the  fire  had  started  over  the  border  in 
New  Mexico,  and  that  the  high  wind  had  made  it 
impossible  to  get  it  under  control. 

Bob  had  happened  to  be  at  South  Camp  that  day, 
and  at  the  sight  of  it  approaching,  he  had  gathered 
together  what  men  he  could,  and  joined  those  of 


Fighting  a  Prairie  Fire  109 

the  other  outfits  who  were  fighting  it,  at  the  same 
time  sending  Alkali  back  at  full  speed  to  bring  the 
men  from  Poloma. 

It  was  one  o'clock  when  they  left  Poloma,  and 
they  reached  South  Camp,  a  distance  of  thirty 
miles,  about  half-past  three,  the  horses  covered  with 
foam  and  lather,  and  the  men  a  mass  of  soot  and 
dirt. 

There  was  no  one  about,  and  they  rode  straight 
to  the  corral,  where  they  found,  as  they  expected, 
the  horses  all  within.  It  was  a  matter  of  no  little 
difficulty  for  Donald  to  rope  and  saddle  one  of 
them:  for  the  animals,  terrified  by  the  nearness  of 
the  fire,  were  dashing  wildly  about  the  corral,  snort- 
ing and  snapping  at  each  other,  and  running  blindly 
into  the  fence  in  an  altogether  panicky  condition. 

At  length  he  managed  to  rope  one  at  random,  and 
get  the  saddle  changed,  and  then  he  mounted,  rather 
worried  to  know  whether  the  animal  was  a  gentle 
one  or  not.  Fortunately,  with  the  exception  of  a 
good  deal  of  nervous  prancing  and  jumping  about 
he  proved  to  be  all  right,  and  a  moment  later  they 
were  off  again,  this  time  heading  straight  for  the 


1 1  o  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

fire,  which  was  about  five  miles  due  north  of  the 
camp. 

As  they  approached  it  from  the  side,  Donald  saw 
that  it  was  a  long,  wavering  line  of  flame,  sweeping 
forward  with  what  seemed  a  tremendous  velocity, 
and  he  wondered  how  in  the  world  they  could  do 
anything  to  stop  it.  Soon  he  could  make  out  fig- 
ures toiling  along  on  horseback,  in  what  looked  like 
the  very  centre  of  the  flames,  while  others  followed 
behind  on  foot;  and  then  a  horseman  separated  him- 
self from  the  others  and  dashed  toward  them. 
Donald  only  knew  it  was  Bob  by  his  voice:  his 
face  was  unrecognizable. 

"  Where's  the  line  wagon?  "  he  demanded,  pull- 
ing his  horse  up  on  his  haunches. 

Montana  shifted  uneasily  in  his  seat.  Alkali  had 
edged  over  to  the  far  side  of  the  group. 

"  Th' — a — harness  was  broke,"  Montana  faltered, 
"  an'  we  couldn't  bring  it." 

"  Harness  broke !  "  Bob  shouted.  "  The  deuce  it 
was!  You  didn't  want  to  bring  it,  I  reckon.  I'll 
have  to  fire  some  of  you  fellows  before  the  rest  of 
you'll  obey  orders.  Well,  get  busy.  Bill  and  Pete, 


Fighting  a  Prairie  Fire  1 1 1 

relieve  those  men  on  the  front  drag,  and  Bronco  an' 

Ben  take^he  second  one.     Jack  an'  you — what's 

. . 

your  name?     OloOQiico — take  brooms  and  follow 

'•  j.^- 
behind?   '^eprg^JooK^fter.  the  horses." 

t  He  rj^pe4  6uft  these* ' Borders  H^ghot  from  a  Win- 

•-.••   \.  •,.  ' .  .  .  .  Jr>f 

ftpjiester,  and  they  were  obeyecLhyit^i  extreme  prompt- 

jr*T  %**.  '""»  '•••         v^ 

'  .-.ness.  ..  •  •'•'  .   x'^/> 

/i'.  '  .'•'Vf 

Bill  galloped  forward  to  the  "front  drag,  with 
Donald  close  behind.  He  saw  that  the  drag  was  a 
fresh  cowhide,  nailed  out  on  two  'fence  posts  with 
ropes  attached  to  the  front  corners.  These  were 
fastened  to  the  saddles  of  the  men  who  pulled  it, 
and  it  was  dragged  along  the  edge  of  the  fire  as 
close  to  the  front  as  possible  to  prevent  its  spreading 
at  the  side.  The  fire  itself  was  perhaps  ten  or 
twelve  feet  through,  and  stretched  northeastward 
in  a  wavering  line  to  what  seemed  an  appalling 
length.  The  flames  did  not  reach  more  than  two 
feet  from  the  ground,  but  fanned  by  the  northwest 
gale,  they  burned  with  extraordinary  fierceness  and 
heat,  giving  out  a  volume  of  choking  smoke  and 
clouds  of  ashes,  and  were  swept  forward  with 
alarming  swiftness. 


112  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

One  of  the  men  on  the  drag  kept  outside  the  fire, 
while  the  other  had  to  ride  inside,  over  the  burned 
portion ;  and  Donald,  being  new  to  the  business  and 
a  little  slow  in  reaching  the  spot,  found  himself  rele- 
gated to  the  latter  position,  and  in  a  very  few  min- 
utes he  discovered  that  there  was  nothing  pleasant 
about  it  at  all. 

The  man  he  was  relieving — a  stranger  from  the 
Turkey  Tracks  across  the  border — helped  him 
fasten  the  drag  rope  to  his  saddle-horn  and  then,  at 
a  signal  from  Bill,  they  started  off. 

The  ashes  rose  in  clouds,  and  the  smoke  eddied 
about  him,  stinging  his  eyes  and  nearly  choking  him, 
while  the  heat  from  the  fire  in  front  was  overpower- 
ing. It  was  so  fierce  that  he  had  to  keep  his  hat 
well  down  over  his  face  and  his  head  twisted  to  one 
side  or  the  other,  and  even  then  his  face  and  neck 
were  blistered  in  a  few  minutes.  And  all  the  time 
he  had  to  devote  every  thought  and  effort  to  his 
horse,  who  was  frantic  with  terror,  and  balked, 
pitched,  pulled  back,  and  tried  desperately  to  get 
away  from  the  fire.  Had  it  not  been  for  the  drag 
rope,  he  could  never  have  kept  him  there,  and  he 


FIGHTING  A  PRAIRIE  FIRE. 


Fighting  a  Prairie  Fire  1 1 3 

wondered  afterward  how  he  ever  managed  to  escape 
being  thrown. 

On  he  rode;  at  one  minute  reeling  from  the  fumes 
of  burning  grass,  and  the  next,  snatching  a  breath 
of  pure  air,  as  an  eddy  blew  the  smoke  away  for  an 
instant.  Sometimes  it  seemed  as  though  he  couldn't 
keep  it  up  for  a  moment  longer,  but  he  had  to,  for 
there  was  nothing  else  to  do  but  go  ahead  until  he 
was  relieved. 

Presently  he  realized  that  the  sun  had  risen  and 
hung  low  in  the  east,  looking  like  a  great  red  ball 
through  the  clouds  of  swirling  smoke,  and  soon 
afterwards,  to  his  intense  relief,  a  man  rode  up  and 
told  him  to  give  up  the  drag  rope. 

He  untied  it  with  trembling  fingers,  and  as  his 
horse  carried  him  out  of  the  smoke  in  a  couple  of 
jumps,  he  thought  he  had  never  known  anything  so 
good  as  that  first  breath  of  fresh  air.  He  half 
expected  to  have  a  few  minutes'  rest,  but  Bob  met 
him  and  told  him  to  give  his  horse  to  Montana  and 
follow  behind  the  second  drag  to  beat  out  any 
flames  which  sprang  up. 

This  was  almost  as  bad  as  working  with  the  drag. 


114  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

It  was  hard  to  walk  with  boots  on,  particularly 
when  these  were  new  ones;  the  ground  was  hot 
and  blistered  his  feet,  and  the  clouds  of  ashes 
which  arose  were  almost  as  unpleasant  as  the 
smoke. 

He  kept  at  it  for  nearly  an  hour,  and  was  then 
put  on  the  second  drag,  where  he  managed  to  secure 
the  outside  rope.  He  did  not  mind  this  at  all,  but 
he  had  not  been  there  half  an  hour  when  Bob  called 
him  off  to  go  ahead  of  the  fire  and  burn  some  leads. 

All  this  time  he  had  absolutely  no  idea  of  the  size 
of  the  fire ;  the  direction  or  force  of  it ;  or  how  much 
or  little  it  was  being  controlled.  He  had  simply  been 
told  to  do  a  thing,  and  had  done  it  without  any 
chance  of  knowing  whether  his  efforts  were  accom- 
plishing anything  or  not. 

Now,  however,  as  he  hurried  forward  with  Bob 
and  three  or  four  others,  the  latter  volunteered  a 
few  words  of  explanation. 

"  The  wind's  shifted  a  bit  to  the  north,"  he  said 
tersely ;  "  and  it's  drivin'  the  fire  down  to  a  big  draw 
about  six  miles  ahead.  I'm  goin'  to  try  to  corner 
it  there.  I  want  you  fellows  to  burn  a  stretch  along 


Fighting  a   Prairie  Fire  1 1 5 

this  side  to  keep  the  fire  from  comin'  any  further 
this  way,  and  gradually  lead  it  up  to  the  draw." 

When  they  were  about  a  mile  ahead  of  the  fire, 
Bob  started  up  a  small  blaze  which,  fanned  by  the 
wind,  was  soon  burning  briskly.  The  men  allowed 
it  to  burn  off  a  stretch  some  fifteen  feet  wide,  and 
then  beat  it  out  at  the  sides,  leaving  behind  them  a 
long  black  line  tapering  gradually  toward  an  irregu- 
lar point  of  land  which  extended  into  the  draw  like  a 
peninsula,  the  edges  of  which,  being  of  cap  rock, 
would  act  as  a  barrier  to  the  flames,  and  the  chances 
were  that  they  would  burn  themselves  out  without 
doing  any  more  damage.  Of  course,  there  were 
probabilities  of  their  jumping  over  the  lead  which 
had  been  burned,  but  men  were  stationed  at  inter- 
vals on  the  edge  of  this  to  beat  out  any  fire  starting 
on  that  side.  The  northern  end  of  the  fire  was 
being  handled  in  the  same  way,  and  Donald  sin- 
cerely hoped  it  would  be  successful. 

The  flames  approached  with  great  rapidity,  and 
were  within  two  miles  of  them  when  Bob  suddenly 
dashed  up. 

"  Here,  Pete,"  he  said  quickly.     "  Get  your  horse 


li6  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

and  ride  around  th'  edge  of  the  cap  rock.  See  if 
there's  any  gullies  or  places  where  th'  fire  can  get 
down  into  th'  draw,  and  if  there  is  let  me  know 
right  away,  'cause  if  it  once  gets  into  th'  draw  it's 
th'  devil  to  stop." 

Donald  ran  back  to  where  Montana  had  the 
horses,  and  mounting,  dashed  out  onto  the  point  at 
a  gallop.  Along  the  edge  the  bare  rock  jutted  up 
for  a  space  of  ten  or  fifteen  feet.  The  sides  of  the 
draw  dropped  straight  down  for  four  or  five  feet, 
and  then  went  on  in  a  series  of  sharp  descents,  bare 
of  grass,  and  strewn  thick  with  boulders,  to  the 
bottom  of  the  draw,  eighty  or  ninety  feet  below. 

He  rode  with  his  back  to  the  fire,  and  had  almost 
reached  the  northern  side  of  the  point,  when  sud- 
denly he  felt  a  hot  blast  on  his  neck.  Turning 
quickly  in  his  saddle,  his  heart  leaped  into  his 
throat;  for  the  fire  was  within  five  hundred  feet  of 
him,  and  rushing  on  like  a  whirlwind. 

His  way  was  cut  off  to  the  north,  and  without  an 
instant's  hesitation  he  wheeled  his  horse  sharply 
around  and  started  back  the  way  he  had  come  at  a 
mad  gallop. 


Fighting  a  Prairie  Fire  117 

It  was  too  late.  Even  as  he  turned,  he  saw  that 
the  fire  had  cut  him  off,  and  was  already  upon  the 
point.  Through  the  smoke  he  could  make  out  sev- 
eral of  the  men  wildly  waving  their  arms  at  him, 
and  could  hear  shouts  from  that  direction,  but  the 
roar  of  the  flames  drowned  the  words. 

For  an  instant  he  stood  perfectly  still,  his  eyes 
eagerly  scanning  the  approaching  line  of  fire.  A 
little  to  the  left  he  noticed  a  point  where  it  did  not 
seem  to  be  quite  so  fierce,  and  he  determined  to  try 
and  get  through  there. 

He  dug  his  spurs  into  the  horse's  sides  and  struck 
him  a  heavy  blow  with  his  quirt.  The  animal  dashed 
forward  a  dozen  yards  and  then  stopped  short  and 
spread  out  his  fore  feet,  and  no  amount  of  beating 
could  induce  him  to  go  another  step. 

The  poor  beast  was  nearly  mad  with  terror,  and 
as  the  fire  came  on  with  unabated  speed,  he  gave  an 
almost  human  cry  of  fear,  and  taking  the  bit  in  his 
teeth,  turned  and  fled  back  to  the  edge  of  the 
precipice. 

Donald  was  just  about  as  frightened  as  the  horse, 
but  he  tried  to  keep  his  head.  He  looked  down  into 


n8  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

the  canyon,  vainly  hoping  to  see  some  way  of  escape, 
but  it  seemed  hopeless.  There  wasn't  a  foothold  on 
the  steep,  smooth  sides,  and  a  leap  down  would 
almost  certainly  result  in  death  or  maiming :  and  as 
he  turned  back  again,  his  face  blistered  by  the  heat, 
he  saw  that  the  flames  were  barely  fifty  feet  away 
and  still  driven  on  at  as  great  a  speed  as  ever. 


CHAPTER  XI 
SAVED  BY  A  CAYUSE 

SUDDENLY  he  felt  his  horse  quiver  under  him 
and  settle  down  on  his  haunches,  and  thinking 
that  he  was  going  to  fall,  Donald  was  about  to  shake 
his  feet  loose  from  the  stirrups,  but  before  he  could 
do  so,  the  animal  gave  a  jump  which  took  him  over 
the  edge  of  the  draw  and  down  some  six  feet 
to  a  narrow,  insecure  ledge  below.  He  stumbled 
and  swayed  to  one  side,  and  then,  carried  on  by  his 
own  momentum,  he  half  slid,  half  scrambled  down 
the  steep  side  of  the  canyon,  at  an  ever-increasing 
speed,  until  it  seemed  as  though  he  must  be  dashed 
to  pieces  at  the  bottom. 

At  the  first  leap,  Donald  had  just  time  to  grasp 
the  horn  of  his  saddle  with  both  hands  and  hold  on 
like  grim  death.  He  fully  expected  each  instant  to 
be  thrown  over  the  horse's  head  against  one  of  the 

boulders  which  lay  thick  on  every  side,  and  when 

119 


1 20  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

the  horse  finally  landed  at  the  bottom  of  the  draw, 
the  boy  was  dazed  and  bewildered,  and  wondered 
how  in  the  world  the  thing  had  been  done. 

There  was  little  time  for  reflection,  however.  The 
horse  took  the  bit  in  his  teeth,  and  dashed  up  the 
draw  at  a  gallop,  and  he  had  gone  fully  half  a  mile 
before  Donald  could  pull  him  in  and  look  for  a  way 
to  get  back  to  the  level  again.  After  ten  or  fifteen 
minutes'  search,  he  at  last  discovered  a  gully  run- 
ning into  the  draw,  and  scrambling  up  this,  he 
reached  the  prairie. 

Here  he  saw  that  the  fire  was  no  more.  The  last 
remnants  of  it  were  burning  feebly  along  the  edge 
of  the  draw,  and  here  and  there  isolated  spots  were 
smoldering;  but  of  the  fierce,  devastating  whirl- 
wind which  had  threatened  him  only  a  short  time 
before,  not  a  vestige  was  to  be  seen. 

Turning  south,  he  rode  across  the  wide  stretch  of 
ashes,  and  in  twenty  minutes  had  rejoined  his 
companions. 

"  Well,  Pete;  you're  a  nice  one,"  Bronco  said,  as 
he  came  up.  "  I  thought  you  was  in  for  a  singein' 
a  while  ago." 


Saved  by  a  Cayuse  121 

"  So  did  I,"  Donald  said  frankly.  "  I  reckon  if 
it  hadn't  been  for  this  horse,  I'd  be  pretty  well 
roasted  by  this  time.  He  took  me  down  the  rocks 
as  nice  as  anything  you  ever  saw." 

"That  so?  Good  horse  t'  have,"  commented 
Bronco.  "Well,  thank  the  Lord  that's  over,"  he 
went  on.  "  Let's  get  back  t'  camp;  I  want  a  wash 
powerful  bad." 

. "  I    should    say    you    did,"    Donald    laughed. 
"  You're  a  sight." 

"  I  can't  be  more  of  a  sight  than  you  are,"  retorted 
Bronco.  "  You  look  like  a  nigger." 

They  turned  toward  the  camp,  and  on  the  way 
several  of  the  other  men  joined  them,  all  looking 
more  or  less  like  hobos,  and  all  equally  glad  that  the 
fire  was  conquered.  As  they  reached  the  corral 
gates,  they  met  Claude  coming  out  and  leading  a 
pack  horse  on  whose  back  was  the  identical  bundle 
Donald  had  helped  him  with  when  they  started  that 
morning. 

"What  yuh  got  there,  Chico?"  Alkali  inquired. 

"  That's  my  bed,  o'  course,"  Claude  answered 
shortly. 


122  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

For  a  minute  there  was  a  dead  silence,  which  was 
broken  by  Alkali. 

"  Yuhr  bed,"  he  said  curiously.  "  Where'd  yuh 
git  it?" 

"  Brung  it  from  Poloma :  where'd  you  think  I 
got  it?" 

There  was  a  simultaneous  yell  from  every  man  in 
the  crowd. 

"Hully  Gee!"  Alkali  gasped.  "Brung  yuh're 
bed  t'  a  fire!  I  never  heard  uh  such  a  fool  trick. 
When'd  yuh  think  yuh  was  goin'  t'  use  it  ?  Christ- 
mas! I  wisht  I'd  knowed  it  sooner:  them 
blankets  'ud  made  bully  things  fur  beatin'  out 
fire." 

When  he  found  that  he  was  being  made  fun  of, 
Claude  sullenly  refused  to  discuss  the  matter,  but 
the  men  made  so  many  loud  and  derisive  comments 
that  Bob  at  once  caught  on,  and  proceeded  to  give 
Claude  a  laying  out  for  wasting  time  and  effort  so 
foolishly. 

As  soon  as  he  had  refreshed  himself  with  a  wash 
and  something  to  eat,  Donald  threw  himself  down 
in  a  corner  of  the  bunk  house,  and  got  a  few  hours' 


Saved  by  a  Cay  use  123 

sleep,  from  which  he  was  awakened  in  time  for 
supper. 

Directly  this  was  over,  Bob  hinted  rather  broadly 
that  they  might  as  well  be  off;  so  without  delay  they 
saddled  up  and  started  for  Poloma  about  seven. 
They  did  not  push  the  horses,  but  rode  at  an  easy 
gait,  and  Alkali  being  with  them,  they  were  very 
merry  at  Claude's  expense. 

"  Yuh'll  git  th'  use  uh  that  bed  t'night,  Chico," 
Alkali  remarked,  as  he  watched  with  evident  enjoy- 
ment Claude's  futile  efforts  to  keep  the  pack  horses 
together.  "  Won't  that  be  nice !  " 

"Bed's  had  quite  a  ride,  ain't  it?"  Bronco 
drawled.  "  Too  bad  we  didn't  stay  a  while  so  you 
c'd  use  it." 

"  Oh,  shut  up ! "  Claude  exclaimed  in  a  grieved 
tone.  "  Ain't  it  my  bed,  an'  ain't  I  got  th'  trouble 
uh  gettin'  it  around  ?  " 

They  reached  Poloma  about  eleven  o'clock,  and  at 
once  went  to  bed,  and  next  morning  they  did  not  go 
out  at  all,  but  slept  off  and  on  all  day. 

It  was  a  wonder  that  Bob  did  not  drop  in  on  them 
suddenly  and  find  it  out :  for  he  had  a  very  unpleas- 


124  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

ant  habit  of  turning  up  when  they  least  expected 
him,  and  often  when  they  thought  him  a  hundred 
miles  away  at  a  distant  part  of  the  ranch. 

At  such  times  Claude  would  invariably  put  his 
foot  in  it.  He  seemed  utterly  unable  to  exist  with- 
out talking  continually,  and  at  supper  time  he  usually 
started  a  monologue  which  lasted  throughout  the 
meal  without  cessation.  It  didn't  matter  what  he 
said,  so  long  as  he  kept  talking,  and  when  Bob  was 
there,  he  would  begin  a  narration  of  everything 
which  had  happened  at  camp  within  the  past  few 
weeks,  while  the  men  sat  around,  nervous  and 
anxious  lest  he  let  out  something  they  had  done 
which  might  be  against  the  rules.  This  was  the 
only  time  he  ever  got  back  at  the  fellows  for  their 
teasing,  and  it  was  quite  unpremeditated,  for  he  as 
often  told  on  himself  as  on  any  one  else. 

To  Donald  the  winter  seemed  to  pass  with  great 
rapidity,  though  nothing  especially  exciting  hap- 
pened. The  routine  was  very  much  the  same:  he 
inspected  his  windmills  thoroughly  and  rode  his  line 
of  fence  with  more  or  less  regularity,  though  that 
portion  of  it  from  the  camp  southward  to  the  Cana- 


Saved  by  a  Cayuse  125 

dian  river  received  considerably  more  attention  than 
the  stretch  westward  along  the  river,  which  ran 
through  very  rough  ground.  Sometimes  he  varied 
the  monotony  by  riding  south  along  the  fence  from 
Poloma  to  the  Canadian,  which  he  would  usually 
reach  about  two  o'clock;  then  cross  into  the  Lazy  X 
territory  and  spend  the  night  at  Cottonwood  Camp, 
some  two  miles  the  other  side.  In  the  morning  he 
would  ride  westward  along  the  river  until  noon,  and 
then  strike  across  country  to  Poloma. 

His  roping  improved  constantly,  until  he  was 
quite  an  expert,  and  by  February  he  could  ride 
Freckles  as  well  as  any  horse  in  his  mount.  In  fact 
he  preferred  him  to  the  others,  on  account  of  his 
spirit  and  endurance,  and  the  quickness  with  which 
he  learned  the  various  accomplishments  a  cow- 
puncher's  horse  should  possess. 

By  the  middle  of  February  he  had  grown  to  be 
a  thorough  cow-puncher,  with  little  trace  of  the 
tenderfoot  left,  and  his  friends  in  the  East  would 
have  had  difficulty  in  recognizing  in  him  the  fash- 
ionably-dressed, particular  Donald  Harrington. 
Sally  continued  to  bemoan  his  absence,  and  vowed 


126  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

that  she  was  coming  out  to  see  him  in  the  spring 
or  early  summer.  Since  his  departure  his  father 
had  not  made  a  single  inquiry  as  to  where  he  was  or 
what  he  was  doing.  Sally  wrote  that  she  thought 
he  was  too  proud  and  stubborn  to  ask,  but  that  he 
certainly  was  interested,  because  not  long  before  she 
had  suddenly  come  upon  him  intently  studying  the 
postmark  on  one  of  Donald's  letters  to  her.  When 
he  saw  her,  he  dropped  it  like  a  flash  and  walked 
away  without  a  word,  but  it  seemed  to  the  girl  that 
he  had  something  on  his  mind,  and  there  was  no 
question  but  that  he  had  been  much  more  thoughtful 
and  kind  to  her  in  the  past  few  months  than  ever  be- 
fore. 

"  Dad  really  isn't  a  bad  sort,"  she  concluded. 
"  When  he  comes  out  of  his  shell  and  stops  thinking 
of  business,  it  would  surprise  you  what  fun  he  is.  I 
think  he  realizes  that  he  was  too  hasty  with  you 
and  is  sorry  for  it ;  but  his  pride  won't  let  him  admit 
that  he  was  wrong." 


CHAPTER  XII 
THE  MISSING  HORSES 

TOWARD  the  middle  of  February  Donald  rode 
into  camp  one  afternoon  and  found  Bob  there. 
After  supper,  while  they  were  lounging  in  the  bunk 
house,  he  said  to  Montana : 

"  I  wish  you'd  send  Bronco  and  Pete  over  to 
Pundia  Corral  to  look  up  that  bunch  of  paint  horses 
that  ain't  branded.  There's  about  a  dozen  of  'em, 
an'  I  want  to  get  th'  brand  on  'em  before  we  start 
th'  spring  work.  They  were  a  little  west  of  th' 
corral  yesterday,  an'  I  don't  guess  they've  moved 
very  far.  Have  th'  boys  locate  'em  and  find  out 
just  how  many  ain't  branded,  and  let  me  know." 

Work  of  this  kind  was  always  enjoyed,  since  it 
varied  the  monotony  of  the  daily  routine,  and  conse- 
quently, Bronco  and  Donald  started  off  the  next 
morning  in  high  spirits.  There  was  no  bunk  house 
at  Pundia  Corral,  which  was  used  mainly  in  the 

summer  time,  and  consisted  only  of  a  series  of  wire 

127 


128  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

and  stockade  corrals,  with  a  windmill  for  water 
supply.  It  was  nearly  forty  miles  southwest  of 
Poloma,  so  the  two  decided  to  spend  the  night  at  the 
bunk  house  at  Las  Vegas — a  camp  about  thirty 
miles  west  of  Poloma — which  was  at  present  unoc- 
cupied ;  and  to  go  on  from  there  in  the  morning. 

They  reached  Las  Vegas  at  noon,  and  as  they 
rode  up  they  heard  the  monotonous  bawling  of  a 
calf  from  the  corral  at  the  side,  and  at  once  went 
around  there  to  see  what  was  the  matter. 

"  If  there  ain't  a  calf  got  in  th'  corral  an'  can't 
git  out,"  Bronco  remarked,  as  they  rounded  the 
corner  of  the  bunk  house. 

"  How'd  it  get  in,  I  wonder,"  Donald  said.  "  The 
gate's  shut." 

"  There's  something  the  matter  with  the  catch," 
Bronco  replied,  as  he  swung  it  open.  "  They  push 
in  and  can't  get  out  again.  Here;  get  a  move  on; 
beat  it,"  he  went  on,  as  he  chased  the  animal  around 
the  corral.  It  didn't  seem  anxious  to  go,  but  he 
gave  it  several  good  licks  with  his  rope  and  it  finally 
shambled  out  of  the  gate,  which  Donald  held  open, 
and  disappeared  over  the  prairie. 


The  Missing  Horses  129 

"  Good  thing  we  came  around,"  he  said,  as  they 
went  in  to  eat  dinner.  "  It  might  have  starved  to 
death  shut  up  there." 

They  spent  the  afternoon  lounging  about  and 
talking,  and  about  five  o'clock  the  same  persistent 
bawling  started  up  from  the  corral.  On  investi- 
gating it,  they  found  that  the  identical  calf  had  shut 
himself  up  again,  and  this  time  they  gave  it  a  good 
beating  before  driving  it  out. 

Having  no  beds  with  them,  there  was  no  induce- 
ment to  sleep  late,  and  they  were  up  with  the  sun 
and  by  six  o'clock  had  eaten  breakfast  and  were 
ready  to  start.  The  horses  had  been  hobbled  out- 
side, and  as  they  went  to  get  them  Bronco  stopped 
short. 

"  Well,  I'll  be  darned,"  he  exclaimed.  "  If  there 
ain't  that  blamed  calf  again." 

Sure  enough,  the  persistent  creature  was  in  the 
corral  again,  though  what  possible  attraction  it 
found  in  the  bare,  trodden  earth  it  would  have  been 
hard  to  say. 

"  I  tell  you  what,"  Bronco  said;  "  let's  put  some 
highlife  on  it.  That'll  keep  it  away." 


130  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

"  What's  highlife?  "  Donald  asked. 

"  Some  stuff  th'  horse  fakirs  use  t'  liven  up  old 
horses.  It  burns  like  th'  very  mischief  an'  keeps 
on  burnin'.  There's  a  bottle  of  it  in  th'  house, 
'cause  I  saw  it  last  night." 

He  got  the  bottle  and  they  drove  the  animal 
into  the  milking  pen,  a  small  section  of  the  corral 
fenced  off  by  cedar  posts  planted  close  together. 
Here  they  roped  and  threw  it  down,  and  Don- 
ald sat  on  its  head  while  Bronco  took  off  the 
ropes. 

"  Wait  'till  I  get  a  stick  t'  prop  th'  gate  open," 
the  latter  said.  "  Once  he  starts  he'll  be  off  like  a 
shot  an'  we  don't  want  him  t'  cut  himself  on  th' 
wire." 

While  he  was  gone  Donald  took  the  cork  out  of 
the  bottle,  and  sniffed  the  contents.  It  had  a  vile 
smell,  and  he  wondered  how  it  felt.  As  he  was 
about  to  replace  the  cork  the  calf  gave  a  sudden 
wriggle  which  knocked  the  bottle  out  of  his  hand. 
It  struck  the  animal  on  the  hind  quarters,  and  the 
stuff  spilled  out  over  his  back  and  trickled  down  to 
the  ground. 


The  Missing  Horses  131 

"  Christmas ! "  Donald  exclaimed  in  dismay. 
"  Now  I've  done  it." 

He  grabbed  the  calf  tight  around  the  neck,  half 
expecting  him  to  have  a  fit  on  the  spot,  but  for  a 
minute  or  two  nothing  happened.  Then  the  crea- 
ture gave  a  convulsive  leap,  which  brought  him  to 
his  feet,  and  with  a  bawl  of  mingled  pain  and  fright, 
he  dashed  for  the  corral,  dragging  Donald  along 
with  him.  The  latter  tried  to  hold  him  for  a  second 
or  two,  but  finding  the  effort  useless,  let  go.  The 
calf  was  off  like  a  shot,  and  with  a  couple  of  jumps 
reached  the  door  of  the  milking  pen,  unfortunately 
at  the  precise  moment  that  Bronco  Kid  appeared  in 
the  opening.  The  result  was  disastrous. 

The  calf,  running  head  down,  struck  him  amid- 
ships like  a  cannon  ball,  and  Bronco  was  thrown 
forward  over  the  animal's  back,  where  he  instinc- 
tively grasped  at  the  only  thing  he  could  get  hold  of 
— the  tail.  The  calf  carried  him  thus  for  a  few 
feet,  and  then  commenced  bucking,  and  Bronco 
landed  with  a  thud  on  the  hard  ground,  leaving  the 
animal  to  continue  its  frantic  flight  out  of  the  corral 
and  over  the  prairie,  never  to  appear  again. 


132  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

Donald  watched  these  proceedings  from  the  milk- 
ing pen,  so  overcome  with  laughter  that  he  could 
scarcely  stand,  and  when  Bronco  picked  himself  up, 
he  made  a  dash  for  him. 

"You  lobster;  you  did  it  on  purpose,"  he  sput- 
tered, making  a  grab  at  Donald.  "  Wait  till  I  take 
it  out  uh  your  hide." 

There  was  a  momentary  struggle,  and  they  went 
down,  with  Donald,  weak  from  laughing,  under- 
neath. 

"  I  didn't,"  he  gasped.  Honest  to  gosh.  I 
was  smelling  the  stuff  and  he  knocked  the  bot- 
tle out  of  my  hand.  You  did  look  awful  funny, 
though." 

Bronco  relaxed  his  hold,  as  the  funny  side  of  it 
struck  him. 

"  I  'spose  I  did,"  he  said  with  a  grin,  as  they  got 
up.  "  It  wasn't  any  joke,  though.  Th'  blamed 
beast  near  knocked  th'  wind  out  o'  me.  Well,  he 
won't  come  around  here  again." 

They  saddled  up  in  a  hurry  and  set  out  for  Pundia 
Corral,  which  they  reached  about  nine.  There  were 
no  horses  to  be  seen  about  the  corral,  so  they  started 


The  Missing  Horses  133 

to  ride  in  a  circle  with  a  radius  of  about  three  miles 
around  it. 

The  country  was  very  flat,  and  they  could  see  a 
long  way  over  the  prairie,  but  there  were  no  signs 
of  any  horses  until  about  noon,  when  they  came 
upon  a  bunch  of  six  or  eight. 

"  There  ain't  a  paint  horse  among  'em,"  Bronco 
said,  in  a  disappointed  tone,  as  they  surveyed  them. 
"  I  reckon  we'll  have  t'  try  again." 

This  time  they  made  a  wider  circuit,  but  with 
equally  barren  results.  They  saw  several  bunches 
of  horses  and  among  them  two  paint  horses,  but 
they  managed  to  get  close  enough  to  plainly  distin- 
guish the  brand  on  their  sides. 

"  Where  do  you  suppose  they've  gone  to  ?  "  Don- 
ald asked. 

"They  might  have  gone  'most  anywhere,"  Bronco 
replied.  "  But  it  don't  seem  likely  they'd  stray  so 
far  when  Bob  saw  'em  here  two  days  ago,  'specially 
when  th'  feedin's  good  an'  these  others  have  stuck 
around  here." 

There  was  a  puzzled  frown  on  his  face  and  he  sat 
still  for  a  few  minutes,  thinking. 


134  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

"  Let's  go  back  t'  th'  corral,"  he  said  suddenly. 
"  Maybe  we'll  find  somethin'  there ;  we've  got  t'  go 
there  t'  camp  anyway." 

They  reached  the  corral  in  half  an  hour,  and  as 
they  rode  up  they  saw  that  the  gate  was  open. 

"  That's  funny,"  Bronco  said.  "  I  didn't  notice 
it  this  morning,  did  you  ?  " 

"  I  don't  think  we  came  around  to  this  side," 
Donald  said. 

"  I  reckon  we  didn't,"  Bronco  agreed,  as  he 
slipped  off  his  horse.  "  Say,  look  at  that  ?  " 

He  pointed  to  a  spot  near  the  gate,  and  leaning 
over,  Donald  saw  in  the  mud  the  distinct  imprint 
of  a  shod  horse. 

"  Why,  I  didn't  know  any  of  the  horses  were 
shod,"  he  exclaimed  in  surprise. 

"  They  ain't,"  Bronco  said  tersely.  "  It's  some- 
body else's  horse." 

His  face  had  grown  strangely  serious,  and  his 
eyes  hardened. 

Thrusting  his  bridle  reins  into  Donald's  hand, 
he  walked  into  the  corral  and  looked  quickly  around. 
A  moment  later  the  boy  saw  him  suddenly  bend 


The  Missing  Horses  135 

over  to  examine  something  on  the  ground.  Then 
he  straightened  up  and  came  back  to  the  gate  and 
Donald  noticed  that  his  face  was  a  little  pale. 

"  Someone's  been  in  this  corral  within  twenty- 
four  hours,"  he  said.  "  There  were  at  least  three 
different  men  and  one  uh  them  rode  a  horse  shod  on 
the  front  feet." 

"  None  of  the  outfit's  been  here  since  Tuesday, 
have  they?" 

"  It  wasn't  none  uh  th'  outfit,"  Bronco  said 
shortly.  "  An'  whoever  it  was  they  weren't  up  t' 
no  good.  I'll  bet  my  saddle  against  a  bag  uh  Bull 
Durham  they,  know  where  th'  paint  horses  are." 

"What  ! "  Donald  exclaimed.  "Do  you 
mean " 

"  Yes,  I  do.  They're  horse  thieves  or  I'm  plumb 
locoed." 


CHAPTER  XIII 
CAUGHT  IN  A  NORTHWESTER 

FOR  a  minute  Donald  sat  quite  still  on  his  horse, 
as  he  digested  this  surprising  and  rather 
unpleasant  information.  The  thought  of  horse 
thieves  had  never  entered  his  mind,  for  he  had  the 
vague  idea  that  in  this  enlightened  age  they  had  been 
done  away  with,  and  to  have  them  appear  so  sud- 
denly and  unexpectedly  was  something  of  a  shock. 
His  train  of  thought  was  speedily  interrupted  by 
Bronco : 

"We  ain't  got  any  time  t'  lose,"  he  said  decisively. 
"  One  of  us  has  got  t'  get  back  an'  put  Bob  wise  as 
quick  as  he  knows  how.  He'll  have  t'  get  th' 
Sheriff  out,  an'  some  uh  th'  fellows  sworn  in  as 
deputies.  Th'  other  had  better  follow  up  these  fel- 
lows an'  try  an'  find  out  which  way  they're  goin'." 

"  What  do  you  want  me  to  do?  Go  or  stay?" 
Donald  asked.  "  You  know  more  about  it  than 

I  do." 

136 


Caught  in  a  Northwester          137 

Bronco  hesitated  a  moment. 

"  I  reckon  you'd  better  stay,"  he  said  at  length. 
"  I  know  th'  way  back  in  th'  dark  an'  ain't  likely  t* 
get  lost.  You'll  have  t'  camp  here  t'night,  an'  in  th' 
morning  you'd  better  ride  southwest  t'  th'  river. 
They're  most  likely  makin'  for  New  Mexico,  an' 
they'll  cross  th'  Canadian  within  fifty  miles  uh 
here.  Look  for  their  trail  in  th'  mud  an'  see  where 
they  come  out  on  th'  other  side.  If  you  should 
come  up  with  'em  don't  try  t'  butt  in,  'cause  you'll 
get  all  that's  comin'  t'  you.  Just  follow  'em  'till  you 
see  which  way  they're  goin',  an'  then  come  back  an' 
meet  us.  I'll  hustle  the  fellows  all  I  know  how." 

They  divided  what  food  they  had  into  two  parts 
and  then,  after  a  brief  good-by,  Bronco  wheeled 
around  and  galloped  off  across  the  prairie. 

Donald  sat  watching  him  until  he  finally  disap- 
peared over  a  knoll  in  the  distance,  and  then  he 
turned  and  looked  around  him.  It  wasn't  a  very 
cheerful  place  to  spend  the  night  in,  especially  under 
such  conditions.  There  was  no  shelter  to  speak  of : 
the  best  he  could  do  would  be  to  camp  in  the  lee  of 
one  of  the  stockade  corrals  where  the  cedar  posts 


138  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

might  break  the  wind  a  little.  But  the  physical 
discomforts  did  not  weigh  on  his  mind  half  so  much 
as  the  other  possibilities.  Now  that  Bronco  was 
gone,  it  seemed  very  lonely,  and  he  found  himself 
glancing  suspiciously  about  and  wondering  how 
much  start  the  horse  thieves  had,  and  whether  there 
was  any  chance  of  their  returning. 

Fortunately  for  his  peace  of  mind,  there  was  little 
time  to  dwell  on  these  possibilities.  The  sun  had 
set  and  the  rapidly  falling  darkness  warned  him 
that,  if  he  intended  having  any  fire  at  all,  it  was  high 
time  he  got  busy  collecting  fuel.  So  he  slipped  off 
Freckles,  and  tying  him  to  the  corral  fence,  began 
to  pick  up  chips.  In  half  an  hour  he  had  a  supply, 
and  had  discovered  in  one  of  the  corrals  a  perfectly 
good  fence  post,  which  he  at  once  appropriated.  A 
few  minutes  later  he  was  sitting  close  to  a  cheerful 
blaze  and  getting  what  comfort  he  could  out  of  the 
extremely  dry  bread  and  tough  jerked  beef  which 
made  up  his  supper.  That  done  he  hobbled  his  horse 
and  rolling  himself  up  in  his  slicker,  lay  down  by  the 
fire,  and  presently,  despite  his  nervousness,  fell 

!-- 

asleep. 


Caught  in  a  Northwester          139 

When  he  awoke  he  was  numb  with  cold.  The  fire 
had  burned  out,  leaving  only  a  few  dull  red  coals 
and  a  bitter  wind  was  sweeping  over  the  prairie, 
chilling  him  to  the  bone.  The  scattered  mesquite 
bushes  loomed  up  weirdly  in  the  cold  gray  of 
approaching  dawn,  and  as  he  opened  his  eyes  he 
found  himself  gazing  fixedly  at  a  dark  figure  which 
stood  still  some  forty  feet  away,  looking  at  him.  He 
watched  it  for  a  minute,  and  then  it  began  to  move 
stealthily  toward  him.  With  trembling  fingers,  he 
slid  his  hand  down  under  his  slicker  and  drawing  his 
six-shooter,  silently  cocked  it.  A  moment  later  he 
burst  into  a  nervous  laugh.  It  was  Freckles,  quietly 
cropping  the  grass,  and  not  a  man  at  all — and  he 
thrust  the  Colt  back  into  his  belt  rather  sheepishly, 
but  with  a  decided  feeling  of  relief. 

He  ate  what  was  left  of  the  bread,  and  as  soon  as 
it  was  fairly  light,  saddled  up  and  turned  south- 
ward. He  made  no  attempt  to  follow  the  trail  of 
the  horse  thieves,  but  rode  for  the  river,  intending 
to  pick  it  up  there. 

The  day  turned  out  to  be  a  fine  one,  radiantly 
clear,  with  a  stiff  breeze  blowing  from  the  north. 


140  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

During  the  first  couple  of  hours  he  shot  two  cotton- 
tails, which  he  tied  to  his  saddle,  and  went  on,  much 
cheered  at  the  prospect  of  something  to  eat  for 
dinner.  He  had  not  ridden  more  than  a  couple  of 
miles  when  he  was  conscious  of  a  vague  feeling  of 
uneasiness,  which  he  presently  realized  was  due  to 
the  unnatural  stillness  of  everything.  The  wind 
had  died  down  completely,  not  a  blade  of  grass 
stirred,  and  the  sun  seemed  actually  to  have  grown 
suddenly  brighter.  It  felt  as  though  a  storm  was 
approaching,  but  as  there  wasn't  a  cloud  in  sight 
he  rode  on,  glancing  around  occasionally  to  see  if  he 
could  make  out  anything  unusual. 

It  seemed  to  have  gotten  on  Freckles'  nerves  as 
well,  for  he  was  extremely  rebellious  and  difficult  to 
ride.  Apparently  he  had  made  up  his  mind  that  he 
wanted  to  go  ahead  at  a  gallop,  and  if  Donald  pulled 
him  in,  he  bucked  and  pitched,  and  altogether  be- 
haved very  badly. 

It  was  after  one  of  these  struggles  with  the  horse 
that  he  glanced  back  over  the  prairie,  and  as  he  did 
so  he  uttered  an  exclamation  of  amazement. 

Low  in  the  sky  to  the  northwest  a  single  cloud 


Caught  in  a  Northwester          141 

had  appeared;  more  like  a  round  ball  of  densely 
black  smoke  than  any  cloud  he  had  ever  seen.  It 
was  moving  forward  with  extraordinary  rapidity, 
and  as  he  watched  it,  it  suddenly  began  to  grow 
larger  and  to  throw  out  long  arms,  which  spread 
over  the  sky  in  every  direction  like  the  tentacles  of  a 
gigantic  octopus. 

Then  he  realized  that  it  must  be  a  tornado,  for  it 
was  exactly  like  the  descriptions  he  had  read  of  such 
things,  and  he  managed  to  quiet  Freckles  long 
enough  to  get  his  slicker  unrolled  and  his  arms 
slipped  into  it.  He  had  barely  buttoned  it  and 
seized  his  bridle-reins  again  when  the  storm  was 
upon  him. 

With  a  shriek  like  that  of  a  thousand  demons, 
the  wind  burst  over  the  prairie.  An  impenetrable 
cloud  of  sand  filled  the  air  and  all  about  him  minia- 
ture whirlwinds  sent  their  spiral  columns  up  into 
the  sky.  Mesquite  shrubs,  clumps  of  sage  brush 
and  cacti  were  torn  up  by  the  roots  and  flew  past 
him  in  the  grasp  of  the  furious  tempest,  while  count- 
less numbers  of  that  strange  shrub  known  as  the 
Devil's  Balloon — a  curious  ball-like  mass  of  twigs 


142  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

growing  from  a  single  stalk — rolled  weirdly  along 
over  the  ground  or  were  tossed  out  of  sight  in  the 
air.  It  was  simply  impossible  to  stand  against  it, 
and  as  they  flew  before  the  storm,  Donald  wondered 
where  they  would  end. 

Then  the  snow  came:  sharp,  icy  particles  which 
cut  like  a  knife  and  seemed  to  penetrate  to  his  very 
bones.  It  stung  Freckles  to  a  perfect  frenzy,  and 
he  flew  along  as  though  trying  to  outrun  the  wind. 
Fortunately  he  was  too  busy  getting  over  the  ground 
to  try  any  tricks,  so  Donald  had  no  difficulty  in 
keeping  his  seat. 

After  what  seemed  an  interminable  time,  but 
which  was  in  reality  not  more  than  twenty  minutes, 
the  force  of  the  wind  began  to  subside.  Gradually 
it  lessened,  and  as  it  did  so  the  snow  began  to  fall 
more  heavily  and  in  much  larger  flakes.  It  covered 
the  ground  with  a  blanket  of  white  and  soon  began 
to  make  progress  so  difficult  that  Freckles  was 
obliged  to  slow  down  to  a  walk. 

By  this  time  the  boy  had  lost  all  sense  of  direc- 
tion. Several  times  he  headed  for  what  he  thought 
was  the  southwest,  but  it  was  almost  impossible  to 


Caught  in  a  Northwester         143 

travel  in  any  direction  except  straight  before  the 
wind.  He  knew,  however,  that  he  couldn't  miss 
the  Canadian  unless  he  was  turned  completely 
around,  and  once  he  struck  that  river  he  could  easily 
get  his  bearings. 

Hour  after  hour  they  plodded  through  the  snow. 
He  was  chilled  to  the  bone  and  all  the  spirit  seemed 
to  be  taken  out  of  Freckles,  who  shuffled  along  with 
head  down,  breathing  heavily.  At  length,  about 
noon,  the  snow  began  to  lessen  and  ten  minutes  later 
the  clouds  rolled  away,  and  the  sun  came  out  again. 


CHAPTER  XIV 
PETE  FINDS  THE  HORSE  THIEVES 

DONALD  looked  curiously  about  him.  The 
white  expanse  extended  unbroken  on  every 
side  and  gave  him  absolutely  no  clue  as  to  where  he 
was.  But  the  river  could  not  be  very  far  away,  so 
shifting  his  course  a  little  to  the  right,  he  urged 
Freckles  on  again. 

Within  half  an  hour  he  struck  the  breaks  and  a 
few  minutes  later  he  came  to  a  gully,  down  which 
he  could  see  the  sparkle  of  the  river  as  it  flowed 
along,  half  a  mile  away,  and  a  couple  of  hundred 
feet  below  him. 

He  stopped  for  a  few  minutes  to  decide  what  to 
do.  If  he  made  his  way  down  to  the  river  and  tried 
to  ride  along  the  bank,  he  knew  he  would  make 
very  slow  progress,  on  account  of  the  roughness  of 
the  ground;  while  if  he  stayed  where  he  was,  he 
could  get  along  much  faster  but  he  might  miss  the 

trail  of  the  outlaws.    At  length  he  decided  that  they 

144 


Pete  Finds  the  Horse  Thieves     145 

could  not  have  crossed  the  river  so  far  down  as  this, 
and  that  it  would  be  safe,  for  a  time  at  least,  to 
keep  to  the  level. 

He  rode  for  a  couple  of  hours  and  by  that  time 
he  was  so  hungry  that  he  simply  had  to  stop.  He 
scrambled  down  to  the  edge  of  the  river,  and  after 
some  difficulty,  collected  enough  dead  wood  to  cook 
one  of  the  rabbits;  and  it  is  saf.e  to  say  that  nothing 
— even  that  first  meal  at  Channing — had  ever  tasted 
so  good  to  him  before. 

Less  than  twenty  minutes  after  this  he  struck  the 
trail.  It  was  quite  an  unexpected  piece  of  good 
fortune,  for  it  had  never  occurred  to  him  that  the 
outlaws  had  not  reached  the  breaks  before  the  storm 
set  in,  and  when  he  first  came  upon  the  track  in  the 
snow  he  thought  it  might  have  been  made  by  a 
bunch  of  the  outfit's  horses,  but  a  few  minutes  later 
he  saw  that  he  was  mistaken.  The  tracks  showed 
that  the  horses  had  kept  close  together,  and  then  all 
at  once  he  saw  where  one  had  broken  away  from 
the  others  and  turned  north  at  a  gallop.  Imme- 
diately behind  this  another  track  struck  out  from  the 
trail  and  followed  the  first,  keeping  always  a  little 


1 46  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

outside  the  other,  and  in  a  few  minutes  both 
returned  to  the  main  body  again. 

"  That's  therrfiall  right,"  Donald  muttered,  as  he 

~* I 

studied  the  tracks.  "  That's  where  one  of  the  stolen 
horses  broke  away  and  was  brought  back.  I  won- 
der what  delayed  them?  Gee!  They  must  have 
camped  within  twenty  miles  of  the  corral  last  night. 
If  I'd  known  that  I  shouldn't  have  slept  as  well  as 
I  did." 

About  three  miles  further  on  this  performance 
was  repeated,  and  this  time  he  dismounted,  and 
examining  the  tracks  closely,  discovered  that  the 
pursuing  horse  was  shod  on  the  fore  feet.  That 
settled  the  question  beyond  a  doubt,  and  Donald 
begin  to  proceed  with  extreme  caution,  keeping  a 
sharp  lookout  over  the  surrounding  country  and 
always  surmounting  a  rise  in  the  ground  very 
slowly  and  carefully,  lest  he  should  unexpectedly 
run  upon  the  outlaws ;  a  thing  he  was  most  anxious 
to  avoid. 

It  was  a  little  after  five  when  he  caught  sight  of  a 
thin  column  of  smoke  rising  straight  up  into  the 
clear  air,  a  couple  of  miles  ahead,  and  he  at  once 


Pete  Finds  the  Horse  Thieves     147 

brought  Freckles  to  a  stand-still.  As  nearly  as  he 
could  make  out,  it  came  from  the  breaks  a  little 
south  of  the  course  he  was  riding  and  showed  that 
the  outlaws  had  gone  into  camp.  Bronco's  advice 
had  been  not  to  get  too  close  to  them,  but  simply  to 
find  out  which  way  they  were  going.  This,  how- 
ever, seemed  too  good  a  chance  to  lose,  for  if  he 
could  only  get  a  good  look  at  the  men  and  see  what 
horses  they  had,  it  would  be  of  the  greatest  possible 
advantage  to  the  others  when  they  came  up.  He 
was  determined  to  try  it,  anyway,  and  he  rode 
slowly  on  for  another  fifteen  minutes,  at  the  end  of 
which  time  he  could  plainly  see  that  the  fire  was  in 
the  breaks  and  must  be  quite  close  to  the  river 
bank. 

Suddenly  as  he  came  over  a  little  knoll,  his  heart 
leaped  into  his  throat,  for  there,  not  half  a  mile 
ahead,  was  the  figure  of  a  man  on  horseback.  Like 
a  shot,  Donald  wheeled  Freckles  around,  and  was 
down  behind  the  knoll  before  the  man  turned 
around. 

Here  was  a  new  predicament.  The  fellow  was 
undoubtedly  a  lookout,  placed  there  to  give  warning 


148  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

if  any  one  approached,  and  it  was  consequently 
impossible  for  him  to  get  any  closer  on  horseback. 
The  only  thing  to  do  was  to  dismount  and  proceed 
on  foot,  so  he  rode  back  a  little,  to  where  he  had 
noticed  the  mouth  of  a  gully  leading  into  the 
breaks,  and  turned  into  it. 

It  descended  sharply  for  a  couple  of  hundred  feet 
and  then  opened  into  a  wide,  shallow  canyon,  run- 
ning at  right  angles.  Here  he  found  a  sheltered 
spot,  and;  tying  Freckles  to  a  mesquite  bush,  he  went 
forward  on  foot. 

This  canyon  ran  into  another,  which  presently 
crossed  a  third,  and  before  he  knew  it,  he  was 
involved  in  such  a  network  of  gullies,  washouts,  and 
canyons  that  he  was  in  great  danger  of  losing  his 
way  altogether.  He  had  lost  sight  of  the  smoke 
but  he  managed  to  keep  his  sense  of  the  general 
direction,  and  hurried  on  through  the  snow  as  fast 
as  he  could,  for  the  light  was  waning,  and  every 
minute  counted. 

All  at  once  he  rounded  a  corner  of  rock  and  found 
himself  within  fifty  feet  of  the  outlaws'  camp.  The 
g^illy  in  which  he  stood  opened  into  a  wide  canyon 


Pete  Finds  the  Horse  Thieves     149 

the  bottom  of  which  was  fifteen  or  twenty  feet 
below.  A  short  distance  before  him  was  a  deep 
pocket  in  the  side  of  the  canyon,  and  this  had  been 
used  by  the  party  as  a  temporary  corral;  for  there 
were  fifteen  or  twenty  horses  huddled  together  at 
one  end,  guarded  by  a  man  on  horseback,  while  at 
the  other  a  roaring  fire  had  been  built,  and  close  to 
it  two  men  were  bending  over  a  horse  which  lay  on 
the  ground. 

For  a  minute  Donald  could  not  make  out  what 
they  were  doing.  Then  suddenly  the  horse  gave  a 
bawl  of  pain,  and  struggled  frantically  to  get  away, 
and  a  moment  later  there  was  wafted  to  his  nostrils 
the  smell  of  burning  hair  and  flesh. 

It  was  quite  clear  now.  They  were  branding  the 
stolen  horses,  and  his  one  wish  was  to  get  near 
enough  to  see  the  operation  closely  and  to  find  out 
just  what  brand  they  were  using.  It  was  almost 
dark  now,  though  everything  showed  against  the 
snow  with  more  or  less  distinctness,  and  he  decided 
as  soon  as  possible  to  try  to  crawl  up.  The  sides  of 
the  canyon  were  strewn  with  rocks  and  not  very 
steep,  and  he  thought  he  could  manage  to  reach  a 


150  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

point  on  the  edge  of  the  pocket  from  which  he  could 
look  directly  down  into  the  camp. 

While  he  waited  impatiently,  the  two  men  let  up 
the  horse  they  had  branded,  roped  and  threw 
another  one,  and  commenced  operations  on  him.  At 
last  Donald  could  wait  no  longer,  and  slipping  from 
behind  the  rock  he  got  down  on  his  hands  and  knees 
and  began  to  crawl  slowly  forward.  He  had  to  go 
at  a  snail's  pace,  and  it  was  fifteen  minutes  before 
he  reached  a  point  where  he  could  see  into  the  camp. 
Here  he  lay  with  one  foot  braced  against  a  rock; 
his  head  partly  shielded  by  another,  and  his  right 
hand  grasping  a  tuft  of  soap-weed.  It  was  a 
decidedly  uncomfortable  position,  but  he  could  get 
a  good  view  of  what  was  going  on. 

The  two  men  at  the  fire  were  unmistakably  Mexi- 
cans :  one  was  tall  and  broad,  with  a  bristling  black 
mustache  and  a  livid  white  scar  which  ran  from 
under  his  left  eye  diagonally  across  his  cheek.  The 
other  was  much  slighter;  smooth-shaven  and 
swarthy,  with  a  dapper  appearance  about  his  dress 
which  contrasted  strongly  with  his  companion's 
soiled  and  slovenly  attire.  The  horse  on  the  ground 


Pete  Finds  the  Horse  Thieves     151 

was  a  paint  horse,  on  whose  flanks  the  little  man 
was  applying  with  the  skill  of  a  practised  hand  the 
brand  which  Donald  puzzled  out  to  be  8-E.  He  did 
not  do  it  with  a  regular  branding  iron,  but  used  an 
iron  bar,  curbed  at  the  end  like  a  letter  J. 

Donald  saw  all  this  rather  more  quickly  than  it 
takes  to  tell.  He  also  counted  the  horses,  and  found 
that  there  were  eleven  paint  horses,  six  bays,  and  a 
sorrel.  The  man  who  was  guarding  them  was  too 
far  from  the  firelight  to  be  seen  distinctly,  but  he 
presently  called  over  to  the  others  to  know  what 
horse  they  wanted  next,  and  Donald  was  surprised 
to  find  that  he  was  an  American. 

The  next  horse  to  be  chosen  was  a  bay,  and  as  he 
was  thrown  Donald  saw  that  he  was  already  marked 
with  the  X  L  brand,  and  he  watched  curiously  to  see 
how  they  would  change  that.  It  turned  out  to 
be  very  simple.  The  small  man  took  the  curved  bar, 
heated  to  redness  in  the  fire,  and  carefully  and  dex- 
terously changed  the  X  into  an  8.  Then  with  a 
straight  iron  he  altered  the  L  into  an  E,  added  the 
bar  between  them,  and  the  thing  was  done. 

Donald  watched  the  operation  with  great  interest, 


152  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

leaning  forward  a  little  to  see  better,  and  then  sud- 
denly, to  his  horror,  he  felt  the  rock  beneath  his 
feet  slowly  slipping  down.  He  pulled  himself  back 
and  made  a  frantic  effort  to  turn  around  and  grasp 
it,  but  without  avail.  Before  he  could  twist  himself 
about,  the  boulder  broke  loose  and  went  crashing 
down  the  side  of  the  canyon. 


CHAPTER  XV 
THE  PURSUIT 

THE  two  Mexicans  dropped  everything  and 
wheeled  suddenly  around. 

"  Caramba ! "  exclaimed  one,  drawing  his  gun. 
"  What  was  that,  Felipe?  " 

"  It's  a  rock  rolled  down  th'  hill,"  interrupted  the 
third  man,  from  where  he  sat  watching  the  horses. 
"  It  ain't  nothin'  t'  be  scared  of." 

"But  some  one  perhaps  pushed  it/  observed  the 
smaller  Mexican,  his  face  paling  at  the  thought. 
"Listen!" 

There  was  a  dead  silence  for  a  few  moments  and 
Donald  hardly  dared  breathe.  His  first  impulse  had 
been  to  take  to  his  heels,  but  in  trying  to  stop  the 
rock,  he  had  lost  his  balance  and  before  he  could 
recover  himself  he  heard  these  comments,  and  saw 
that  there  was  a  possible  chance  of  his  not  being 

discovered.     So  he  lay  perfectly  still,  hugging  the 

153 


154  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

ground  and  not  making  a  sound  which  could  betray 
him. 

For  a  minute  or  two  the  Mexicans  listened  with 
all  their  ears,  while  the  American  at  the  other  end 
of  the  pocket  swore  angrily  at  the  unnecessary  delay. 
Then,  not  hearing  anything  unusual,  they  were 
about  to  resume  operations,  when  some  snow, 
loosened  by  the  fall  of  the  rock,  went  filtering  down 
the  hillside  with  a  soft  rustling  noise.  That  was 
enough:  they  were  sure  now  that  some  one  was 
watching  them,  and  at  once  set  out  to  investigate. 

Fortunately,  they  turned  first  to  the  side  of  the 
pocket  in  front  of  Donald,  which  was  considerably 
steeper  than  that  at  the  side,  and  when  he  saw  that 
they  were  well  started,  he  gave  one  of  the  big  rocks 
along  the  edge  a  shove  which  sent  it  crashing  down 
upon  them,  and  then  turned  and  fled. 

He  stumbled  over  the  rocks,  slipping  in  the  snow, 
and  once  he  fell  headlong,  bruising  his  shins  and 
cutting  his  hand ;  but  he  was  up  again  in  an  instant, 
and  reached  the  shelter  of  the  gully  before  his  pur- 
suers appeared  in  sight.  He  did  not  stop  there,  but 
ran  down  the  gully  some  fifty  feet,  and  darted  into 


The  Pursuit  155 

another  long  narrow  canyon.  About  five  hundred 
feet  further  on,  he  stopped  to  get  his  breath  and 
listen  for  any  sounds  of  pursuit.  He  could  hear 
nothing,  but  that  was  no  sign  that  the  outlaws  were 
not  creeping  noiselessly  up  on  him  through  the  soft 
snow;  so  after  a  minute  or  two  he  was  off  again. 
At  the  end  of  a  half  hour's  dodging  through  gullies 
and  canyons,  he  was  pretty  certain  that  he  was  safe 
from  further  pursuit.  The  greasers  would  not 
know  whether  he  was  alone  or  not,  and  they  could 
scarcely  take  the  time  to  follow  him  far,  when  all 
their  efforts  would  be  needed  to  get  themselves 
and  the  horses  away  from  such  a  dangerous  locality 
as  quickly  as  possible.  Donald  was  consequently 
congratulating  himself  upon  his  lucky  escape,  when 
the  unpleasant  conclusion  was  forced  upon  him  that 
he  was  lost. 

Where  he  stood  at  the  entrance  to  a  gully,  the 
snow  was  untrodden,  showing  that  somewhere  in  his 
flight  he  had  taken  the  wrong  turning,  and  once  off 
the  back  trail,  it  was  almost  impossible  to  find  it 
again  in  the  darkness.  Of  course  it  would  be  easy 
enough  in  the  daylight,  but  that  meant  a  long, 


156  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

tedious  wait ;  uncomfortable  as  well,  for  he  had  left 
his  slicker  with  the  horse,  and  was  entirely  without 
protection  from  the  cold.  However,  there  was  noth- 
ing else  to  be  done,  so  he  picked  out  as  sheltered  a 
spot  as  he  could  find,  and  awaited  the  first  gleams 
of  light  with  what  patience  he  possessed. 

Within  twenty  minutes  he  was  sleeping  soundly, 
curled  up  under  an  overhang,  and  when  he  awoke 
about  four  o'clock  the  next  morning,  though  chilled 
to  the  bone  and  so  cramped  that  he  could  scarcely 
move,  he  felt  much  better  for  the  rest. 

There  was  light  enough  for  him  to  see  the  trail, 
and  in  ten  minutes  he  reached  the  spot  where  he 
had  taken  the  wrong  turn.  Less  than  half  an  hour 
later  he  was  hugging  Freckles  about  the  neck  in  the 
exuberance  of  his  joy  at  having  found  him  again. 
The  latter  soon  put  a  stop  to  this  unusual  proceed- 
ings by  biting  his  ear  sharply,  and  Donald  then 
turned  his  attention  to  gathering  enough  wood  to 
cook  his  second  rabbit  for  breakfast. 

He  had  decided  to  ride  back  at  once  to  meet  Bob 
and  the  others.  He  had  had  quite  enough  of  follow- 
ing the  horse  thieves,  and  anyway  their  trail  in  the 


The  Pursuit  157 

snow  could  be  easily  followed ;  so  by  sunrise  he  was 
in  the  saddle  and  headed  as  nearly  as  he  could  guess 
for  Pundia  Corral.  When  he  reached  it,  about 
ten  o'clock,  he  found  no  signs  of  any  one's  hav- 
ing been  there,  and  he  was  just  wondering 
what  he  should  do,  when  he  saw  in  the  distance 
a  body  of  men  galloping  toward  him  over  the 
prairie. 

With  an  exclamation  of  satisfaction  he  sprang 
into  the  saddle,  and  dashed  forward  to  meet 
them. 

"  Well,  Pete,"  Bob  said,  as  he  rode  up.  "  You 
look  sort  of  glad  to  see  us.  How  is  it  the  horse 
thieves  didn't  shoot  you  up?" 

"  They  did  come  near  it,"  Donald  said.  "  But  I 
lit  out  before  they  got  a  chance." 

"  You  ain't  seen  'em,  have  you  ?  "  Bob  asked 
incredulously. 

"  Yes,  I  have;  and  they've  got  the  horses  all  right, 
and  branded  some  of  them.  One  of  'em  they 
branded  right  over  the  X  L  brand." 

"  Good  boy :  you  ain't  bad  for  a  greenhorn.  Run 
the  brand,  did  they?  Tell  us  about  it." 


158  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

Donald  at  once  plunged  into  a  description  of  what 
he  had  seen  in  the  canyon,  which  was  listened  to 
with  greatest  interest  by  all  the  men,  but  especially 
by  the  one  stranger  present,  whom  he  judged  to  be 
the  sheriff,  though  he  was  slight  and  boyish  looking 
and  quite  unlike  what  he  had  imagined  that  formi- 
dable person  would  be.  He  had,  however,  eyes  of  a 
hard,  steely  blue  which  seemed  to  take  in  everything 
in  sight  at  once,  and  a  crisp,  decisive  manner  which 
left  nothing  to  be  desired. 

"  Tall ;  black  mustache,  and  scar  on  his  left 
cheek,"  he  commented,  as  Donald  described  the 
Mexicans.  "  Called  the  little  one  Felipe,  you  say  ? 
You're  all  right,  Kid,"  he  went  on.  "  I  know  those 
fellows,  and  we'll  get  'em  inside  of  forty-eight 
hours. 

"  They're  a  couple  of  Greasers  I've  had  my  eyes 
on  for  two  years,"  he  continued,  turning  to  Bob. 
"  They  ve  got  a  sheep  ranch  south  of  Santa  Rosa, 
an'  I've  been  pretty  blamed  certain  they  were 
crooked,  only  they  were  too  slick  to  get  caught.  I 
reckon  they  must  have  a  shack  hid  away  in  the 
breaks  some  place  where  they  run  the  horses  they 


The  Pursuit  159 

steal.  If  this  snow  only  holds  out  we'll  catch  'em 
with  the  goods,  all  right." 

Donald  dropped  back  to  where  Bronco  was  riding 
to  hear  his  story.  It  seems  that  he  had  reached 
camp  at  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  found  that 
Bob  had  left  for  Rita  Blanca  that  afternoon. 
Snatching  a  bite  to  eat,  he  changed  horses  and  made 
the  ranch  at  seven.  There  had  been  some  little 
delay  in  getting  hold  of  the  sheriff,  but  he  was 
located  at  Channing  about  noon  and  they  started 
at  once  for  Poloma  Camp,  where  they  spent  the 
night  and  where  all  the  men  were  sworn  in  as 
deputies.  Leaving  there  at  daybreak,  with  fresh 
mounts,  they  had  made  very  good  time  to  Pundia 
Corral.  The  party  did  not  stop  there,  but  kept 
straight  on  to  the  southwest.  Donald  was  a  little 
hazy  as  to  the  exact  location  of  the  canyon  where 
the  outlaws  had  camped,  but  from  his  description, 
Bob  was  able  to  locate  it  so  accurately  that  they 
struck  the  breaks  scarcely  a  quarter  of  a  mile  south 
of  it,  and  shortly  after  two  they  dismounted,  and 
climbed  down  into  the  pocket. 

As  they  expected,  the  outlaws  were  gone,  and  the 


1 60  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

condition  of  the  fire  showed  that  they  must  have  left 
earrly  the  night  before;  probably  soon  after  Donald 
had  made  his  presence  so  plainly  known. 

The  trail  led  out  of  the  canyon  to  the  prairie 
again,  and  they  followed  it  for  five  or  six  miles 
before  it  dipped  down  into  a  gully  toward  the  river. 
Without  any  attempt  at  concealment  it  went  straight 
to  the  river,  and  when  they  had  forded  the  broad, 
shallow  stream  they  had  no  trouble  in  picking  it  up 
on  the  other  side. 

"  This  looks  too  easy,  Bob,"  Jack  Hardy,  the 
sheriff,  remarked,  as  they  stood  in  a  group  on  the 
bank.  "  I  reckon  they're  up  to  some  trick." 

"  Shouldn't  wonder,"  Bob  replied.  "  But  I  don't 
just  see  what  it  is.  The  horses  went  this  way  sure 
enough;  the  trail  shows  that." 

"  May  be  they're  counting  on  having  enough  start 
to  keep  ahead  till  the  snow  melts,  and  I  guess  they 
have.  They  must  have  lit  out  by  eight  o'clock  last 
night,  and  it's  three  now.  Allowing-  for  stops, 
that's  a  good  sixteen  hours.  This  snow  is  melting 
fast,  and  by  ten  o'clock  to-morrow  there  won't  be 
a  bit  left." 


The  Pursuit  161 

"  Well,  there's  nothing  to  do  but  follow  it  while 
we  can;  is  there?  "  Bob  said. 

"  That's  about  all,"  Hardy  agreed.  "  Come  on, 
boys." 

The  trail  continued  in  a  southerly  direction,  with- 
out a  deviation,  and  as  the  hours  passed,  it  was  more 
and  more  difficult  to  follow.  By  five  o'clock  there 
were  only  a  few  patches  of  snow  left,  and  though 
the  tracks  were  still  fairly  plain  in  the  moist  ground, 
they  knew  that  by  noon  next  day  this  would  be  quite 
dried  up  and  any  further  progress  would  be  more  or 
less  guesswork. 

They  camped  that  night  near  the  cabin  of  a  Mex- 
ican squatter.  The  trail  of  the  outlaws  led  straight 
to  the  door  of  the  shack,  and  they  hoped  to  be  able 
to  extract  some  information  from  him.  Jack 
Hardy  and  Bob  plied  him  with  every  conceivable 
kind  of  a  question  in  the  hope  that  he  might  uncon- 
sciously give  them  a  clue,  but  they  might  have 
saved  themselves  the  trouble,  for  they  got  absolutely 
no  satisfaction. 

Yes:  four  men  had  passed  that  way  very  early 
in  the  morning,  the  fellow  said.  Yes:  they  had  a 


1 62  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

bunch  of  horses;  how  many  he  couldn't  say,  not 
having  counted  them.  They  had  bought  a  sheep 
and  gone  on  to  the  southward.  He  thought  they 
were  all  Mexicans,  but  he  didn't  notice.  They  did 
say  something  about  Santa  Rosa,  but  he  didn't  pay 
much  attention:  they  were  nothing  to  him,  and  he 
didn't  care  where  they  went. 

Finally  the  two  men  gave  it  up  in  despair.  The 
Greaser  was  either  a  friend  of  the  horse  thieves  and 
had  been  well  posted,  or  it  was  simply  an  example  of 
the  way  in  which  all  Mexicans  hang  together  and 
refuse  to  give  any  information  which  may  incrim- 
inate a  compatriot. 

Having  had  their  trouble  for  their  pains,  Bob  and 
the  Sheriff  strolled  back  to  their  camp-fire,  no  wiser 
than  before. 


CHAPTER  XVI 
THE  HUT  IN  THE  CANYON 

"  A  INT  he  a  close-mouthed  old  Greaser?"  Bob 
XjL  remarked,  as  they  sat  around  the  fire  after 
supper,  discussing  the  squatter.  "  He  knows  as 
well  as  I  do  that  those  horses  were  stolen,  but  you 
couldn't  get  anything  out  of  him  to  save  your  life. 
Those  fellows  all  hang  together." 

Hardy  sat  silent,  his  brows  furrowed  with 
thought. 

"  I'll  bet  you  any  money  those  fellows  didn't  keep 
on  toward  Santa  Rosa  very  much  further,"  he  said 
suddenly.  "  They're  just  doing  it  to  throw  us  off 
the  trail,  and  as  soon  as  they  can  they'll  turn  around 
and  make  for  that  hiding  place  of  theirs  as  fast  as 
they  can  get  over  the  ground.  Now,  where's  the 
most  likely  locality  you  know  of  for  such  a  place 
to  be?" 

"  Might  be  anywhere  in  the  breaks,"  Bob  said. 

"  But  if  I  was  pickin'  out  a  place  to  hide  stolen 

163 


164  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

horses  in,  I'd  locate  in  one  of  them  canyons  on  the 
-south  side  of  the  Canadian  anywhere  from  twenty 
miles  this  side  of  the  border,  to  ten  miles  the  other 
side.  There  ain't  a  soul  goes  there  twice  a  year, 
and  they  could  keep  a  hundred  horses  without  any 
one  knowin'  a  thing  about  it." 

"  Ex-actly.  That's  my  idea  to  a  tee;  an'  I  believe 
I'll  go  at  it  blind.  To-morrow  morning  you  take 
most  of  the  bunch  and  follow  the  trail  as  well  as  you 
can.  Give  me  three:  say  Alkali,  Bronco,  an'  the 
kid,  here,  an'  I'll  cut  straight  back  to  the  Canadian 
and  see  if  I  can't  run  'em  down." 

"  Whatever  you  say,  Jack,"  Bob  drawled. 
"  You're  running  this  party.  Only  you  want  to 
remember  that  when  they're  cornered,  these  Greas- 
ers'll  show  fight :  besides,  there's  two  men  with  'em, 
you  know." 

"  I  ain't  forgot  that,"  Hardy  laughed,  his  eyes 
sparkling.  "  I  reckon  we  c'n  manage  'em,  though." 

Soon  after  daybreak,  they  were  off.  They  all 
rode  south  for  a  couple  of  miles,  so  that  the  squatter 
would  not  suspect  anything,  and  then  after  a  brief 
consultation  between  Hardy  and  Bob,  they  divided 


The  Hut  in  the  Canyon          165 

forces  and  Bob  with  five  men  continued  to  follow 
the  trail,  while  Hardy  took  Alkali,  Bronco,  and 
Donald,  and  making  a  wide  detour,  presently  headed 
almost  due  east.  As  they  flew  along  at  a  gallop, 
they  were  all  in  high  spirits.  They  laughed  and 
joked  and  discussed  the  possibilities  of  finding  the 
horse  thieves  much  as  if  they  were  a  bunch  of  lost 
cattle.  To  Donald  there  was  an  undercurrent  of 
excitement,  which  only  added  zest  to  the  chase.  It 
was  quite  a  different  thing  from  following  them 
alone  and  at  night,  and  he  did  not  feel  the  slightest 
trace  of  nervousness. 

Hardy  rode  slightly  in  advance,  intently  scanning 
the  ground  for  any  signs  of  a  trail,  but  it  was  so 
hard  that  there  was  little  chance  of  success.  Their 
only  hope  was  to  strike  a  wet,  marshy  spot  where  the 
prints  would  show,  and  this  hope  was  but  a  slight 
one,  since  the  outlaws  would  naturally  avoid  such 
places. 

By  ten  o'clock  they  had  covered  twenty-five  miles. 
They  then  changed  their  course  to  the  north  and 
rode  straight  for  the  Canadian  River.  The  country 
began  to  grow  very  rough  as  they  approached  the 


1 66  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

breaks,  and  they  had  to  slow  down  considerably. 
Toward  noon  Hardy  suddenly  uttered  an  exclama- 
tion, and  pulling  in  his  horse,  leaped  off  and  bent 
over  something  on  the  ground.  It  was  the  faint 
outline  of  the  front  part  of  a  horse's  hoof,  made 
in  a  tiny  hollow  which  had  held  just  enough  mois- 
ture from  the  melting  snow  to  record  it,  and  Hardy 
viewed  his  discovery  with  great  satisfaction. 

"  We're  on  the  right  track  all  right,"  he  said  as 
he  mounted  again.  "  Those  fellows  are  getting 
careless.  That  wasn't  such  a  bad  guess  of  mine, 
after  all." 

This  made  them  all  alert,  and  as  they  rode  slowly 
forward,  they  spread  out  and  kept  a  sharp  lookout 
for  any  more  signs.  The  outlaws  made  no  more 
slips,  however,  and  they  presently  reached  the 
breaks  to  the  south  of  the  Canadian,  without  having 
sighted  another  track. 

"  Well,  we'll  have  to  separate  and  make  a  thor- 
ough search,"  Hardy  said.  "  There's  no  use  hunt- 
ing for  more  trails,  'cause  you  wouldn't  find  'em  in 
a  month  on  this  ground.  Alkali,  you  an'  Pete  go 
east  an*  see  what  you  can  find,  and  Bronco  an'  me'll 


The  Hut  in  the  Canybn          167 

take  the  other  direction.  We'll  meet  here  about 
sundown,  and  if  you  find  anything  before  that,  come 
back  for  us  right  away." 

To  Donald  it  seemed  an  almost  hopeless  task  to 
try  to  locate  anything  in  the  wilderness  of  rocks  and 
canyons  which  bordered  the  Canadian  as  far  as  the 
eye  could  reach.  On  this  side  of  the  river  the  coun- 
try was  much  rougher  than  on  the  other,  and  a 
regiment  of  men  might  easily  be  hiding  there  with- 
out his  being  any  the  wiser.  As  they  rode  slowly 
along,  keenly  searching  the  canyons  for  signs  of 
smoke  and  going  down  into  any  gullies  where  a 
descent  was  possible,  he  expressed  this  doubt  to 
Alkali. 

"  It's  kind  uh  like  a  game  uh  hide  an*  seek,"  the 
latter  remarked,  puffing  on  his  cigarette.  "  We 
may  find  'em  an'  we  may  not ;  but  if  anybody  can, 
it's  Jack  Hardy.  He's  death  on  Greasers:  seems 
like  he  could  trail  'em  like  a  bloodhound." 

"  Well,  I  hope  he  does  this  time,"  Donald  said. 

"  So  do  I,"  Alkali  returned  leisurely.  "  But  I 
ain't  goin'  t'  lose  no  sleep  if  he  don't.  Uh  course 
Bob's  keen  on  catchin'  'em,  t*  make  an  example  of 


1 68  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

'em;  but  a  dozen  cayuses  don't  make  no  difference 
one  way  or  another  on  this  ranch." 

"  What  will  they  do  with  them  if  they  catch 
them?"  Donald  asked  presently. 

"  Depends  on  whether  they  show  fight  or  not. 
Most  likely  they'll  put  up  a  scrap  an'  somebody '11 
go  under.  If  they  gives  in,  they  goes  t'  th'  nearest 
county  seat  fur  trial.  If  Jack  wasn't  along,  that 
formality  'ud  be  dispensed  with  an'  they'd  be  strung 
up  t'  th'  first  cottonwood  we  come  to :  but  he's  got 
t'  preserve  law  an'  order." 

He  lowered  his  left  eyelid  expressively,  and  Don- 
ald had  grave  doubts  whether  the  Greasers  would 
ever  see  jail  if  they  were  caught. 

Their  search  was  quite  futile,  and  about  five  they 
turned  back  to  the  meeting  place,  which  they  reached 
in  less  than  an  hour.  Here  they  found  Hardy  and 
Bronco  waiting  in  a  state  of  suppressed  impatience. 

"  What :  yuh  ain't  found  'em,  have  yuh?  "  Alkali 
exclaimed,  as  he  noticed  the  expression  on  Hardy's 
face. 

"We  sure  have.  They've  got  as  nice  a  little 
place  about  eight  miles  west  of  here  as  you  ever  saw. 


The  Hut  in  the  Canyon          169 

Tucked  away  in  a  canyon  so's  you  could  go  within 
fifty  feet  of  it  and  never  see  it;  only  the  darned 
fools  had  a  fire  lit,"  he  added  contemptuously. 
"  They  must  think  we're  a  lot  of  tenderfeet." 

"  Good  fur  yuh,"  Alkali  said  admiringly.  "  I 
was  tellin'  th'  kid  yuh'd  get  'em  if  any  one  c'd. 
What  are  we  goin'  t'  do  now  ?  Creep  up  on  'em 
after  dark?" 

"  Yes :  we  ought  to  strike  'em  just  about  the 
time  they've  finished  supper.  We  couldn't  get  a 
good  look  at  the  shack,  but  it's  built  up  against  the 
wall  of  the  canyon,  where  there's  a  big  overhang. 
All  they  had  to  do  was  to  put  in  a  front  an'  they 
done  that  with  rocks  so's  you  can't  see  it  fifty  feet 
off.  Don't  know  where  they  stowed  the  horses, 
but  we  heard  'em  all  right." 

While  they  were  waiting  for  it  to  get  dark,  they 
ate  some  bread  and  cold  bacon  from  their  saddle 
pockets  and  about  half-past  six  they  started  slowly 
in  the  direction  of  the  hiding  place.  It  was  quite 
dark  when  they  stopped  within  half  a  mile  of  the 
canyon,  and  dismounting,  they  hobbled  their  horses 
and  proceeded  cautiously  on  foot. 


i/o  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

Hardy  was  in  advance;  presently  he  turned  into 
a  narrow  gully  down  which  they  followed  him 
slowly  and  without  a  sound  About  three  hundred 
yards  further  on  he  made  a  sharp  turn  to  the  left, 
and  dropping  to  his  hands  and  knees,  he  crawled 
along  with  infinite  caution,  hugging  the  steep  rocky 
wall  of  the  canyon.  The  others  followed  his  exam- 
ple, Donald  bringing  up  the  rear. 

It  was  so  dark  that  the  only  thing  he  could  see 
was  the  vague  outline  of  Bronco,  who  was  in  front 
of  him,  and  there  wasn't  a  sound  save  the  faint  rus- 
tling noise  they  made  as  they  crawled  over  the 
ground.  Presently  the  pitchy  blackness  got  on  his 
nerves.  It  seemed  to  weigh  down  upon  him  and 
smother  him,  and  he  longed  for  something,  even 
the  flash  of  a  pistol,  to  show  him  that  he  could 
still  see. 

Suddenly  Bronco  stopped,  and  Donald  ran  against 
his  heels.  A  moment  later  he  found  himself  gazing 
intently  at  a  tiny  threadlike  gleam  of  light  which 
seemed  to  lie  upon  the  ground  a  few  feet  in  front  of 
him,  and  which  he  finally  realized  must  be  coming 
from  under  the  door  of  the  outlaws'  hut. 


The  Hut  in  the  Canyon          171 

A  moment  later  Bronco  turned  noiselessly  and 
felt  about  for  his  right  hand;  having  found  it,  his 
fingers  stole  down  to  where  Donald's  gun  hung  at 
his  side,  and  he  pulled  it  out  of  the  holster  and 
thrust  it  into  the  boy's  hand.  Then  he  rose  slowly 
to  his  feet,  and  as  Donald  followed  his  example,  a 
thrill  ran  through  him;  for  he  felt  that  the  crucial 
moment  had  come. 


CHAPTER    XVII 
THE  CRACK  IN  THE  WALL 

AN  instant  later  there  was  a  splintering  crash: 
a  blinding  flash  of  light,  followed  by  a  rush 
of  feet,  and  he  found  himself  standing  on  the  ruins 
of  the  broken  door,  his  six-shooter  leveled  mechan- 
ically at  the  occupants  of  the  cabin. 

"  Hands  up !  "  commanded  Hardy  sternly. 

The  answer  was  a  single  pistol  shot,  followed 
closely  by  two  others,  and  Donald  winced  as  a  bullet 
thudded  against  the  doorcasing,  close  to  his  head. 
At  the  same  instant  there  was  a  smashing  sound  of 
breaking  glass,  and  the  lantern  on  the  table  went 
out,  leaving  the  room  dimly  lighted  by  the  fire  at 
one  end. 

Donald's  blood  was  up.  He  hadn't  the  least  desire 
to  be  shot  down  like  a  dog,  so  he  commenced  empty- 
ing his  six-shooter  at  anything  which  bore  the 
slightest  semblance  to  a  man.  The  shots  all  came 

from  one  corner  of  the  room,  which  lay  in  the 

172 


The  Crack  in  the  Wall  173 

shadow,  and  in  a  few  minutes  they  began  to  grow 
less  and  finally  ceased  altogether. 

"  Anybody  hurt  ?  "  Hardy  inquired,  as  he  lowered 
his  Colt  and  stepped  forward  into  the  room. 

"  Nothin'  t'  speak  of,"  Alkali  said.  "  I  got  a 
bullet  in  m'  shoulder;  that's  about  as  near  as  them 
Greasers  ever  come :  they're  mighty  poor  shots." 

Finding  that  this  was  the  extent  of  the  damage 
done,  Hardy  walked  over  to  the  fire,  and  threw  an 
armful  of  sticks  on  it.  As  these  blazed  up,  Donald 
saw  two  bodies  lying  one  across  the  other  in  the  far 
corner  of  the  room.  He  could  see  nothing  of  the 
third  man,  and  yet  he  was  positive  that  three  men 
had  been  sitting  at  the  table  when  they  burst  the 
door  in.  He  was  about  to  call  attention  to  this 
when  Hardy  exclaimed : 

"'Where's  the  other  man?  There  were  three  here 
just  now.  Look  out,  fellows,  he's  hiding  somewhere 
around  here." 

A  quick  search,  however,  failed  to  reveal  any 
hiding  place  which  could  possibly  conceal  a  man, 
and  rather  mystified,  they  turned  their  attention  to 
the  other  two.  Neither  of  them  was  dead.  One 


174  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

was  shot  through  the  body  and  was  unconscious; 
the  other  had  a  bullet  in  his  leg,  and  as  Hardy 
turned  him  over,  Donald  saw  that  he  was  the  smaller 
of  the  two  Mexicans  he  had  seen  branding  the 
horses.  The  face  of  the  second  man — an  American 
— was  unknown  to  them  all. 

The  wounded  outlaws  were  lifted  to  a  couple  of 
beds  which  lay  against  the  wall,  and  a  hasty  exam- 
ination made  of  their  injuries.  The  Mexican's  leg 
was  tied  up  and  the  more  serious  wound  of  the  other 
bandaged  as  well  as  they  could.  Then  they  sat 
down  to  take  stock  of  the  situation. 

The  fact  that  one  of  the  band  had  escaped,  and 
in  such  a  mysterious  manner,  was  very  disquieting. 
He  might  be  lurking  about  almost  anywhere,  wait- 
ing for  a  chance  to  get  his  revenge,  and  with  his 
intimate  knowledge,  and  their  ignorance,  of  the 
place,  that  would  be  very  easy,  especially  as  the 
door  was  in  fragments,  and  there  was  nothing  to 
prevent  any  one  from  creeping  up  through  the  dark- 
ness and  picking  them  off  as  they  sat  illumined  by 
the  firelight. 

Donald  found  himself  glancing  nervously  around 


The  Crack  in  the  Wall          175 

the  room,  half  expecting  a  shot  to  come  from  any 
quarter.  The  roof  was  out  of  the  question,  any- 
way; for  it  was  of  solid  rock  formed  simply  by  the 
overhang  of  the  cliffs.  The  front  and  end  walls 
were  also  of  stone,  laid  dry.  The  back  wall 

A  sudden  thrill  went  down  his  spine  and  he  stif- 
fened unconsciously.  As  he  looked  at  the  wall  of 
rough  planking  which  formed  the  back  of  the  room, 
he  noticed  toward  the  end  of  it  a  crack  which  cer- 
tainly hadn't  been  there  a  moment  before.  He  sat 
with  his  eyes  riveted  on  it,  and  almost  doubted  his 
senses :  for  it  seemed  to  grow  wider  before  his  won- 
dering gaze,  but  so  slowly  that  there  was  no  notice- 
able motion. 

Unconsciously  his  hand  slid  to  his  side;  his  fingers 
closed  over  the  butt  of  his  Colt  and  he  drew  it  noise- 
lessly and  with  no  appearance  of  haste,  his  eyes  still 
staring  at  the  wall. 

Jack  Hardy  was  facing  him,  with  his  back  to  the 
wall,  and  at  that  moment  he  happened  to  look  up.  As 
he  caught  sight  of  Donald's  face,  he  saw  at  once 
that  something  was  wrong.  He  realized,  too,  that 
to  follow  his  natural  impulse  and  wheel  suddenly 


176  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

to  see  what  it  was,  might  be  his  own  death  war- 
rent.  So  he  sat  perfectly  still,  and  even  joined  now 
and  then  in  the  conversation  which  Alkali  was  carry- 
ing on  with  Bronco,  while  his  shoulder  was  being 
bound  up;  but  his  eyes  never  left  Donald's  face. 
Minute  after  minute  passed,  with  Jack  Hardy  gazing 
in  strained  suspense  at  the  boy,  who  was  totally 
oblivious  to  everything  except  the  thing  he  was 
watching. 

Suddenly  Hardy  saw  his  hand  go  up,  and  a  streak 
of  flame  spurted  from  the  revolver,  followed  by 
another  and  another,  and  the  room  echoed  with  the 
sounds  of  the  shots.  Then  a  shriek  of  pain  came 
from  behind  the  boards,  and  an  instant  later  there 
was  the  sound  of  a  heavy  fall. 

At  the  first  shot  the  Sheriff  had  thrown  himself 
forward  on  the  floor,  and  almost  as  quickly  was  up 
again  and  facing  the  wall.  Directly  back  of  where 
he  had  been  sitting  was  a  crack  little  more  than  an 
inch  wide,  and  from  behind  it  came  the  sound  of 
low  moans.  He  dashed  over  to  it,  followed  hastily 
by  Donald,  and  thrusting  his  hand  into  the  crack, 
easily  rolled  back  the  boards  and  disclosed  behind 


The  Crack  in  the  Wall          177 

them  a  wide  irregular  cavity,  on  the  floor  of  which 
lay  the  body  of  the  second  Mexican,  his  right  arm 
shattered  from  wrist  to  shoulder.  Beside  him  a  six- 
shooter,  fully  loaded,  glittered  in  the  firelight.  They 
carried  him  back  into  the  room,  and  stanching  the 
flow  of  blood,  bandaged  his  arm  and  laid  him  with 
the  others.  Then  Hardy  turned  to  Donald. 

"  Well,  for  a  new  hand  at  the  business,  you're 
about  as  cool  a  specimen  as  any  I  ever  saw,"  he  said 
admiringly.  "  There  you  sat  as  calm  as  a  day  in 
June,  while  I  was  wondering  whether  the  next 
minute  wouldn't  be  my  last." 

"  Calm !  I'm  glad  you  think  so,"  Donald  said, 
mopping  the  sweat  from  his  forehead.  "  I  was 
scared  green,  if  you  want  to  know  the  truth." 

"  You  didn't  look  it,"  Hardy  returned.  "  You've 
got  an  awful  expressive  face,  though,  Pete.  Too 
expressive  to  be  pleasant  when  you're  gazing  at 
something  over  a  fellow's  shoulder." 

"  When  you're  all  done  throwin'  bouquets," 
Bronco  drawled,  "Alkali  an'  me  'ud  like  t'  be  put 
wise.  Looks  like  we'd  been  asleep." 

"  There  isn't  much  to  it,"  Donald  explained.    "  I 


178  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

was  wondering  where  the  other  man  was,  and  look- 
ing around  the  room,  I  noticed  that  crack  I  hadn't 
seen  before.  While  I  was  watching  it  began  to  get 
wider  a  little  at  a  time,  and  after  about  five  minutes 
I  saw  the  end  of  a  gun  barrel  shoved  through  it. 
Then  I  fired;  that's  all." 

"  Well,  we've  got  th'  other  Greaser,  thank  th' 
Lord,"  Alkali  said,  "  an'  c'n  go  t'  sleep  without 
wonderin'  whether  we'll  wake  up  in  this  world 
or  th'  next.  Who's  goin'  after  Bob  t'  morrow, 
Jack?" 

"  I  guess  Bronco  might  as  well,"  Hardy  said. 
"  You'll  want  to  rest  up,  and  Pete  might  not  know 
the  way." 

So  it  was  settled  that  Bronco  would  hunt  up  the 
rest  of  the  party  while  the  others  stayed  to  guard 
the  outlaws.  He  was  off  before  sunrise,  and  a  little 
later  Hardy  and  Donald  sallied  forth  to  hunt  up  the 
horses.  After  some  little  search  they  were  found  in 
a  small  corral  fenced  off  at  the  end  of  a  steep,  nar- 
row canyon  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away  from 
the  hut.  There  were  thirty-five  or  forty  of  them, 
showing  that  the  Mexicans  had  made  a  very  good 


The  Crack  in  the  Wall  179 

haul,  and  were  probably  all  ready  to  ship  them  to 
some  other  part  of  the  country  for  sale.  They 
lounged  about  for  the  better  part  of  the  day,  doing 
what  they  could  to  make  their  prisoners  easy,  though 
Alkali  said  it  was  time  and  trouble  wasted,  since  the 
devils  would  stick  a  knife  into  any  of  them  if  they 
could  only  get  the  chance.  About  four  o'clock  Bob 
arrived,  his  party  increased  by  the  addition  of  four 
cow-punchers  from  the  Turkey  Tracks,  who  had 
also  missed  horses. 

There  was  a  somewhat  heated  discussion  as  to  the 
advisability  of  stringing  the  horse  thieves  up  on  the 
spot,  but  Hardy  protested  strongly  against  it,  and  as 
Bob  was  on  his  side,  he  won  out.  The  men  would 
willingly  have  done  the  trick  then  and  there,  but 
they  knew  what  the  results  would  be  if  they  dis- 
obeyed Bob's  orders.  Consequently  next  morning 
the  outlaws  were  lifted  on  to  horses,  and  the  entire 
party  set  out  for  the  ranch,  driving  the  stolen 
horses  with  them.  They  had  to  ride  rather  slowly 
and  it  was  dark  before  they  reached  Poloma.  Hav- 
ing spent  the  night  there,  Jack  Hardy,  Bob,  Alkali, 
and  Montana  George  departed  for  Charming,  with 


180  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

the  prisoners,  leaving  the  others  to  pursue  the  even 
tenor  of  their  ways. 

Montana  returned  two  days  later,  with  orders 
from  Bob  for  all  hands  to  report  without  delay  to 
the  ranch. 

"  What's  that  mean  ?  "  Donald  asked  Bronco,  who 
was  standing  near  him. 

"  Broncs,"  the  latter  replied  tersely. 

"  Whew ! "  Donald  exclaimed.  "  I  see  my 
finish." 

"  You'll  get  on  all  right,"  Bronco  said  reassur- 
ingly. "  Course  you'll  get  thrown  a  lot,  but  most 
everybody  does,  an'  you'll  get  used  to  it." 

"  Well,  I  hope  so.  I  can't  say  I'm  crazy  about 
the  idea,  though." 

The  camp  was  astir  early  next  morning,  for  there 
was  much  to  be  done.  After  breakfast  Kentucky 
Bill  rounded  up  all  the  horses  into  the  corral  and 
each  man,  having  packed  his  belongings  into  his  bed, 
strapped  the  roll  on  a  pack  horse.  Then  they  all 
saddled  up,  and  a  few  minutes  later  bade  good-by 
to  Poloma  and  set  out  for  the  ranch,  driving  all  the 
spare  horses  with  them. 


The  Crack  in  the  Wall          181 

Had  it  not  been  for  the  prospect  ahead  of  him, 
Donald  would  have  thoroughly  enjoyed  the  ride. 
Unfortunately  he  had  an  exaggerated  idea  of  the 
difficulties  and  dangers  incident  to  riding  the 
unbroken  horses  commonly  called  broncs.  All  win- 
ter long  the  men  had  filled  his  head  with  stories, 
mainly  of  an  imaginative  character,  of  the  terrible 
things  which  had  happened  to  greenhorns  when 
they  first  essayed  this  feat,  until  he  had  come  to 
look  upon  it  as  the  supreme  test  of  endurance  and 
ability  by  which  a  man  would  either  stand  or  fall; 
and  the  thing  which  troubled  him  most  was  not  the 
possibility  of  being  hurt,  so  much  as  the  fear  that 
he  might  not  be  able  to  make  good,  and  so  would 
never  develop  into  a  genuine  out-and-out  cow- 
puncher.  However,  he  could  only  do  his  best,  and 
he  made  up  his  mind  that  he  could  stand  as  many 
hard  knocks  as  the  next  man,  so  he  gave  up  worry- 
ing and  proceeded  to  enjoy  life  as  it  came. 

Between  frequent  and  prolonged  disagreements 
with  his  pack  horse,  Claude  entertained  the  party 
with  detailed  accounts  of  his  prowess  as  a  bronc 
rider,  which  did  credit  either  to  a  superhuman  skill 


1 82  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

or  a  very  vivid  imagination.  These  were  listened  to 
with  polite  incredulity  by  his  companions,  but  their 
comments,  which  would  have  silenced  a  thinner- 
skinned  individual,  made  no  impression  whatever 
upon  the  vivacious  Chico. 


CHAPTER   XVIII 
RIDING   BRONCS 

THEY  reached  Rita  Blanca  about  nine,  and 
found  that  they  were  almost  the  last  men  in. 
There  must  have  been  at  least  thirty  cow-punchers 
gathered  there,  and  as  they  rode  up  to  the  bunk 
house  Donald  was  glad  to  see  among  them  several 
familiar  faces.  His  old  friend  Bill  was  there; 
Ed  Foster,  and  several  of  the  men  he  had  met  at 
South  Camp,  so  that  he  didn't  feel  quite  like  a 
stranger.  Alkali  broke  off  in  the  middle  of  a  funny 
story  to  greet  Claude  enthusiastically. 

"  Hello,  Chico,"  he  yelled.  "  Coin'  t'  show  us 
how  t'  ride  broncs  ?  " 

"  I  wouldn't  wonder  if  I  could  give  you  a  few 
points,"  Claude  returned  pompously. 

"  Uh  course  yuh  can,"  Alkali  said,  giving  Donald 
a  wink.  "  Yuh  c'n  show  us  how  they  do  it  in 
Montana." 

183 


184  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

There  was  little  time  for  the  exchange  of  pleas- 
antries, however.  Bob  had  already  given  orders  to 
have  the  broncs  rounded  up  in  the  corral,  and  the 
men  were  beginning  to  stroll  leisurely  in  that  direc- 
tion; so  Bronco  and  Donald  hastily  threw  their  beds 
into  the  bunk  house,  left  their  saddles  in  the  wagon 
corral,  and  followed. 

The  greater  part  of  the  outfit  had  spent  the  pre- 
vious week  in  rounding  up  the  broncs  from  all  over 
the  range,  and  some  sixty  or  seventy  of  them  were 
now  confined  in  the  horse  pasture,  an  L-shaped 
inclosure  of  nearly  a  hundred  acres,  which  lay  to 
the  westward  of  the  bunk  house,  and  beyond  all  the 
other  corrals  and  buildings. 

Before  they  could  be  thrown  and  saddled,  they 
had  to  be  driven  into  the  bronc  pen — a  small  inclo- 
sure near  the  wagon  corral — and  this  was  what  was 
now  about  to  be  done.  Most  of  the  men  took  up 
their  position  in  two  lines  stretching  out  from  the 
bronc  pen  to  the  horse  pasture,  through  which  the 
horses  would  have  to  come.  Then  eight  others  on 
horseback  went  into  the  pasture,  and  circling  around 
the  broncs,  proceeded  to  drive  them  out  of  the  gate, 


Riding  Broncs  185 

while  the  men  outside  started  to  shout  and  yell  and 
wave  their  arms  and  hats  in  the  air,  until  the  fright- 
ened horses  were  glad  to  escape  into  even  the 
cramped  quarters  of  the  small  corral. 

All  this  took  time,  especially  since  there  were  a 
few  who  would  dash  back  into  the  pasture,  hug  the 
fence  and  refuse  to  budge,  or  make  it  otherwise 
difficult  to  do  anything  with  them.  But  by  eleven 
o'clock  they  had  all  been  shifted  and  the  entire  outfit 
took  up  their  position  on  the  fence  of  the  corral  to 
criticise  the  horses  and  pick  out  their  allotment. 

Each  man  was  supposed  to  have  six  broncs  in  his 
mount,  the  man  longest  with  the  outfit  having  first 
choice,  and  so  on  down.  It  was  more  or  less  of  a 
lottery,  since  a  fine-looking  horse  frequently  proved 
to  have  a  villainous  temper,  or  else  was  so  stupid 
that  it  was  impossible  to  teach  him  anything. 

They  went  in  to  dinner  at  twelve  and  afterward 
resumed  the  choosing,  and  it  was  two  o'clock  before 
Donald's  turn  came.  Bronco  gave  him  advice  about 
what  horses  to  take,  and  he  picked  out  three  bays; 
a  paint  horse,  and  two  sorrels,  none  of  them  remark- 
able for  their  beauty,  and  all  of  them  looking,  to 


1 86  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

Donald's  unpractised  eye,  extremely  vicious.  Some 
of  the  men  had  already  given  names  to  their  broncs, 
but  he  decided  to  wait  until  he  knew  a  little  more 
about  his ;  they  would  then  probably  be  more  appro- 
priately christened. 

They  lounged  about  until  the  heat  of  the  day  was 
nearly  over,  but  at  four  o'clock  Bob  and  one  of  the 
straw  bosses,  Shorty  Davis — so  named  because  of 
his  tall  stature — went  into  the  pen  to  do  the  roping 
and  saddling. 

As  Donald  shouldered  his  saddle  and  followed 
them,  it  was,  strange  to  say,  with  a  distinct  feeling 
of  relief.  In  a  few  minutes  he  would  at  least  know 
just  what  bronc  riding  amounted  to,  and  that  was 
better  than  all  the  uncertainty  and  suspense  he  had 
hitherto  been  in.  Unfortunately  he  was  one  of  the 
first  to  be  spied  by  Bob,  who  at  once  asked  him 
which  horse  he  wanted  to  ride,  and  so  prevented  him 
from  watching  some  of  the  others  and  getting  what 
points  he  could  from  their  performances. 

He  picked  out  one  of  his  bays;  the  gentlest-look- 
ing one,  though  there  wasn't  much  choice,  and  he 
was  roped  and  thrown  by  the  two  men.  As  soon  as 


Riding  Broncs  187 

he  was  down,  Bob  helped  the  boy  put  on  the  saddle 
and  tighten  the  cinch. 

"  You'd  better  get  on  while  he's  down,"  he 
advised.  "  Then  you're  sure  of  your  seat  first  off. 
Get  a  good  holt  an'  stick  on  as  long  as  you  can." 

With  the  horse  lying  on  one  side,  this  wasn't  a 
particularly  easy  thing  to  do,  but  Donald  got  astride 
of  him  with  his  left  foot  in  the  stirrup  and  a  good 
grip  on  the  hackamore.  When  the  men  let  go,  the 
horse  stumbled  to  his  feet;  hesitated  an  instant,  as 
though  bewildered,  and  then  started  across  the  cor- 
ral at  a  dead  run.  Donald  got  his  other  stirrup,  and 
remembering  Bronco's  instructions,  dug  his  spurs 
into  the  animal's  flanks,  a  proceeding  which  only 
served  to  increase  his  speed,  and  an  instant  later  he 
crashed  into  the  corral  fence.  Then  he  wheeled 
half-way  around,  and  dropped  his  head. 

With  the  first  jump  he  seemed  to  go  ten  feet  into 
the  air  and  came  down,  legs  rigid,  with  such  jarring 
force  that  Donald  felt  as  though  his  back  was 
broken.  It  wasn't,  however;  no  damage  being  done 
except  to  loosen  the  hold  of  his  spurs,  and  before 
he  could  hang  them  in,  the  horse  pitched  again, 


1 88  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

coming  down  with  even  greater  force  than  before. 
This  time  he  lost  one  stirrup,  and  with  the  third 
jump  he  went  flying  off,  and  landed  against  the 
fence,  nearly  putting  his  shoulder  out  of  joint. 

He  was  on  his  feet  in  a  second,  and  had  a  mo- 
ment's breathing  spell,  while  Bob  caught  his  horse. 
This  time  he  didn't  throw  him,  but  pulling  the  ani- 
mal's head  down,  he  twisted  both  his  ears  around, 
and  held  them  tight  to  prevent  him  from  running, 
while  Donald  prepared  to  mount. 

"  Loosen  up,"  Bob  advised  him.  "  Don't  sit  so 
stiff.  If  you  give  with  the  horse,  you  won't  feel  it 
so  much.  All  ready  ?  " 

Thanks  to  this  advice,  Donald  managed  to  stick 
on  for  a  couple  of  minutes,  though  the  horse  bucked 
even  harder  than  before;  and  when  he  was  thrown, 
he  landed  on  his  side  and  wasn't  hurt  at  all. 

By  this  time  most  of  the  men  had  saddled  up  and 
were  riding,  and  the  corral  was  a  scene  of  inde- 
scribable confusion.  The  cowboys  shouted  and 
yelled  in  their  excitement :  the  horses  bawled  shrilly 
with  anger  or  fright,  and  dashed  wildly  hither  and 
thither,  some  with  men  on  their  backs  and  others 


Riding  Broncs  189 

riderless;  the  stirrups  flapping  against  their  sides. 
They  stumbled  blindly  into  each  other,  or  ran  full 
tilt  against  the  fence,  and  now  and  then  a  figure 
would  shoot  out  of  the  struggling  mass  to  land  on 
the  ground  with  such  a  crash  that  it  seemed  incred- 
ible to  Donald  that  some  of  them  were  not  seriously 
injured. 

He  had  just  mounted  for  the  third  time,  when 
some  one  opened  the  corral  gates,  and  the  entire 
mob  with  one  accord  dashed  through  them  and  out 
into  the  open.  Donald's  horse  followed,  and  in  the 
excitement  of  the  moment  he  seemed  to  forget  about 
pitching.  As  he  went  out  of  the  gate  Donald  saw 
ahead  of  him  a  figure  which  was  so  funny  that, 
despite  his  own  troubles,  he  burst  into  a  shout  of 
laughter. 

It  was  Claude:  hatless,  disheveled,  and  pale  with 
fright.  One  stirrup  was  dangling  loose,  and  both 
hands  were  clasping  the  horn  of  his  saddle  with  a 
despairing  grip  which  looked  as  though  he  never 
meant  to  let  go.  His  horse — a  rawboned  bay — 
was  running  with  a  curious  sidelong  motion,  and  as 
Donald  was  making  straight  for  him,  a  collision 


190  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

seemed  imminent.  Suddenly  Claude  awoke  to  this 
possibility. 

"Head  off!  head  off!"  he  yelled  frantically. 
"  Keep  away!  You'll  knock  me  over." 

Donald  did  his  best  to  pull  his  horse  to  one  side, 
but  he  only  succeeded  in  partially  turning  him,  and 
a  moment  later  they  came  together  with  a  crash. 
Then  Claude's  bronc  dropped  his  head  and  com- 
menced to  buck. 

At  the  second  jump  Claude  went  off,  and  as  he 
struck  the  ground,  a  piercing  shriek  rent  the  air. 
Donald's  horse  carried  him  some  distance  before  he 
could  pull  him  in,  and  when  he  had  done  so  he  found 
it  utterly  impossible  to  make  him  go  back.  He 
simply  turned  around  and  around  in  a  circle ;  so  the 
boy  finally  slipped  off,  and  letting  him  go,  ran  back 
to  where  Claude  lay  on  the  ground.  At  the  same 
time,  Alkali,  who  hadn't  been  able  to  ride  on  account 
of  his  wounded  shoulder,  appeared  in  sight  from 
the  corral,  and  they  reached  the  prostrate  man 
together. 

Claude  lay  on  his  face,  uttering  low  moans  and 
cries  of  pain. 


Riding  Broncs  191 

"  What's  th'  matter,  Chico  ?  "  Alkali  asked,  bend- 
ing over  him.  "  Where  yuh  hurt  ?  " 

"All  over,"  Claude  gasped  faintly.  "I'm  all 
smashed  up." 

"Humph,"  sniffed  Alkali  callously.  "  Yuh'd 
better  pick  out  a  partic'lar  place  t'  be  hurt  in.  I 
never  knowed  anybody  t'  be  hurt  bad  that  was  hurt 
all  over.  See  if  yuh  c'n  git  up." 

But  Claude  absolutely  refused  to  try.  He 
couldn't  lift  a  ringer,  and  with  many  groans  he 
begged  them  to  carry  him  into  the  house,  where  he 
could  die  in  peace. 

"  Shucks !  Yuh  ain't  goin'  t'  die  any  more'n  I 
am,"  Alkali  said  in  disgust.  "  Take  a  holt  of  him, 
Pete,  an'  git  him  up." 

Donald  did  as  he  was  directed,  and  together  they 
managed  to  lift  Claude  to  his  feet,  to  the  accom- 
paniment of  many  gasps  and  moans;  where  he  stood 
leaning  limply  against  them. 

"Well,  yuhr  legs  ain't  broke;  that's  a  comfort," 
Alkali  remarked.  "  See  if  yuh  can't  walk  into  th' 
house." 

Claude  protested  that  it  was  quite  impossible — 


192  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

that  he  could  scarcely  stand;  but  at  length,  after 
much  urging,  he  tried  it  with  such  success  that  they 
finally  got  him  into  the  ranch  house.  Here  an  exam- 
ination revealed  the  fact  that  he  had  actually  broken 
two  ribs.  This  was  an  inconvenience,  but  nothing 
more,  and  when  Bob  came  in,  they  bandaged  him 
tightly  around  the  body,  so  that  he  was  very  com- 
fortable. 

This  had  taken  so  much  time  that  when  Donald 
went  out  again,  he  found  that  the  riding  was  over 
for  the  day.  The  broncs  were  just  being  rounded 
up  in  the  corral,  where  the  saddles  were  taken  off, 
after  which  they  were  turned  loose  with  the  gentle 
horses  in  the  ranch  pasture. 

At  the  supper  table  and  afterward  in  the  bunk 
house,  the  men  were  full  of  the  day's  doings;  and 
stories  of  the  various  deeds  of  skill  presently  waxed 
so  extraordinary  that  a  kangaroo  court  was  held  and 
the  worst  offenders  chapped  for  stretching  the  truth. 

Claude  passed  a  very  happy  evening.  He  knew 
that  he  was  safe  from  the  chaps,  and  the  account  he 
gave  of  the  terrible  behavior  of  his  horse  was  cor- 
respondingly elaborated.  That  animal  had  pitched 


Riding  Broncs  193 

at  least  thirty  times  in  rapid  succession  and  then  as  a 
last  resort  had  rolled  over.  Unfortunately  his  foot 
was  caught  in  the  stirrup  and  he  had  not  been  able 
to  get  up,  and  while  he  lay  helpless  on  the  ground, 
the  vicious  beast  had  trampled  on  him  repeatedly 
until  several  bones  were  broken  and  he  was  a  mass 
of  bruises. 

Finally  he  was  told  severely  to  cut  it  short,  and 
soon  afterwards  all  hands  turned  in,  pretty  well 
tired  out  from  the  day's  work,  and  with  the  prospect 
of  another,  equally  hard,  before  them. 


CHAPTER  XIX 
THE  INVASION  OF  DALHART 

NEXT  morning  the  men  went  out  to  the  cor- 
ral directly  after  breakfast  and  rode  until 
the  sun  grew  so  hot  that  they  had  to  leave  off  until 
the  afternoon. 

As  Donald  staggered  over  to  the  bunk  house  and 
threw  himself  down  in  the  shade  of  the  porch,  he 
was  deeply  thankful  for  this  chance  to  rest.  He 
ached  from  head  to  foot  and  there  was  scarcely  a 
square  inch  on  his  body  that  couldn't  show  a  bruise. 
He  had  ridden  four  of  his  horses  and  each  one  of 
them  had  seemed  worse  than  the  one  before,  so  that 
at  the  end  of  the  three  hours  he  was  so  limp  and 
exhausted  that  he  could  hardly  drag  one  foot  after 
the  other.  Presently  Bronco  strolled  up  and 
dropped  down  beside  him. 

"  You  look  kind  uh  done  up,"  he  said. 

"  I  am,"  Donald  confessed.     "  Honest,  Bronco : 
194 


The  Invasion  of  Dalhart          195 

I  couldn't  get  on  a  horse  now  if  somebody  offered 
me  a  thousand  dollars.  I'm  all  in." 

Brunco  nodded  comprehendingly. 

"  I  know  th'  feelin',"  he  said.  "  I'm  pretty  well 
tuckered  out  m'self.  I  got  a  mean  bunch  uh  cay- 
uses.  How'd  yours  pan  out?" 

"  Fair,  I  reckon.  They  all  seem  pretty  fierce  to 
me,  but  they  don't  do  any  fancy  stunts  except  one 
darned  fool  that  you  couldn't  beat  sense  into  with  a 
club.  He  won't  go  ahead  at  all;  just  backs  all  the 
time  and  I  can't  make  him  do  anything  else." 

"  Wait  'till  we  get  out  on  th'  range,"  Bronco 
said.  "We'll  fix  him.  A  couple  of  us  '11  tie  our 
catch  ropes  t'gether,  an'  run  him  with  'em.  A  little 
o'  that  '11  settle  him,  I  reckon." 

Donald  lay  flat  on  his  back  gazing  up  at  the  bril- 
liant expanse  of  blue  above  him.  A  delicious  lassi- 
tude was  stealing  over  him  and  he  very  soon 
dropped  asleep.  At  dinner  time  he  felt  much  bet- 
ter for  the  rest,  and  in  the  afternoon  he  took  a 
swim  in  the  swimming  pool — a  good-sized  depres- 
sion which  lay  behind  the  bunk  house,  and  was  fed 
by  a  ditch  from  the  creek.  Consequently,  by  four 


196  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

o'clock  he  was  in  better  shape  than  he  had  ever 
imagined  he  could  be  after  the  hard  work  of  the 
morning,  and  was  quite  able  to  do  his  share  of  rid- 
ing. 

For  two  weeks  this  continued,  and  each  day 
showed  an  improvement  on  the  one  before.  The 
horses  gradually  became  broken  to  the  saddle,  and 
were  very  much  easier  to  handle,  while  the  con- 
stant practice  had  given  him  a  skill  and  confidence 
which  made  the  work  comparatively  easy.  Of  course 
he  was  still  thrown  now  and  then,  but  it  wasn't  more 
than  two  or  three  times  a  day,  and  that  was  nothing 
compared  to  the  falls  he  had  had  at  first.  At  the  end 
of  two  weeks  he  had  worked  his  string  of  six  broncs 
into  pretty  good  shape.  All,  that  is,  except  one  of 
the  bays — Pink  Eye  he  called  him — who  persisted  in 
backing,  and  he  and  Bronco  had  planned  to  break 
this  habit,  once  they  were  away  from  the  ranch. 

While  the  broncs  were  being  ridden,  Bob  had 
been  having  the  chuck  wagon  put  into  shape,  so  that 
there  would  be  no  delay  in  starting  the  real  work  of 
the  range.  There  was  some  uncertainty  among  the 
men  as  to  who  would  be  picked  out  to  go  with  it,  for 


The  Invasion  of  Dalhart          197 

Bob  didn't  believe  in  telling  them  any  more  than  he 
had  to,  and  Donald  was  left  guessing  with  the  rest 
until  the  allotment  of  summer  horses  settled  the 
question. 

The  horses  ridden  through  the  winter  were  all 
turned  out  to  graze,  with  the  possible  exception  of 
one  or  two,  which  the  men  were  allowed  to  keep, 
provided  they  were  in  good  condition,  and  trained 
for  some  part  of  the  round-up  work;  and  their 
places  taken  by  others,  which  had  not  been  used 
for  six  or  eight  months.  These  horses  were  all 
trained  to  do  their  part  in  rounding  up  the  cattle, 
and  had  to  be  very  carefully  selected.  Donald's 
mount,  which  Bob  picked  out  for  him,  was  a  fair 
sample  of  all  the  others. 

There  were  twenty  horses  all  told;  five  of  which 
were  circle  horses,  which  had  great  strength  and  en- 
durance and  were  used  for  making  long  runs  over 
the  range  and  rounding  up  the  cattle.  Then  there 
were  four  round-up  horses,  which  were  very  quick, 
but  did  not  necessarily  have  such  lasting  powers. 
They  were  used  to  hold  the  herd  together  once  it 
was  rounded  up  in  one  place.  The  two  cutting 


198  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

horses  were  the  most  difficult  to  train,  and  the  most 
useful  animals  in  the  mount.  When  a  bunch  of  cat- 
tle had  been  rounded  up,  and  it  was  necessary  to 
pick  out  certain  steers  from  the  lot  for  shipment,  the 
cutting  horses  would  go  into  the  herd,  and  circling 
around  any  particular  animal,  gradually  work  him 
out  from  amongst  the  others. 

Besides  these,  there  was  one  rope-horse,  who  was 
not  afraid  of  the  swinging  of  the  catch  rope,  and 
was  trained  to  stop  and  hold  a  steer  the  moment  he 
was  roped ;  and  two  very  gentle  horses,  which  were 
used  on  night  guard.  The  six  broncs  brought  the 
quota  up  to  twenty,  and  Donald  wondered  what  he 
could  possibly  do  with  them  all :  he  found  out  later 
that  they  were  none  too  many.  Freckles  was  the 
only  one  of  his  winter  horses  he  had  kept,  Bob  de- 
ciding that  he  would  make  a  good  circle  horse. 

The  mount  was  turned  over  to  him  one  after- 
noon, and  he  learned  then  for  the  first  time  that  the 
wagon  was  to  start  next  morning  for  the  section  of 
the  ranch  northeast  of  Dalhart,  to  gather  some  cattle 
for  shipping.  Bob  was  wagon  boss,  and  about 
twenty  men  were  going,  amongst  whom  were 


The  Invasion  of  Dalhart          199 

Alkali,  Bronco  Kid,  Kentucky  Bill,  and  several  oth- 
ers he  knew  and  liked,  besides  Claude. 

The  latter  individual  had  passed  a  very  pleasant 
two  weeks.  Because  of  his  broken  ribs,  he  had 
managed  to  .escape  any  share  in  the  bronc  riding, 
though  this  was  only  an  evil  deferred,  for  the 
broncs  were  given  him  just  the  same,  and  the  boys 
were  looking  forward  with  no  little  interest  to  the 
time  when  he  would  have  to  ride  them. 

It  was  barely  six  o'clock  next  morning  when  the 
chuck  wagon,  drawn  by  six  horses,  lumbered  out  of 
the  corral  and  started  down  the  trail  for  the  creek. 
In  reality  this  wagon  was  made  up  of  two,  and  was 
very  like  the  freight  which  had  so  interested  Donald 
that  first  day  at  Channing.  In  the  first  one  were 
piled  the  rolled-tip  beds  of  the  outfit,  while  the  tail 
wagon  contained  the  supplies:  pots  and  skillets; 
picks,  shovels,  and  a  hundred  and  one  odds  and 
ends  which  would  be  useful  while  they  were  out 
on  the  range. 

Claude  had  tried  to  get  permission  to  ride  in  one 
of  the  wagons,  on  the  plea  of  his  late  injury,  but 
Bob  told  him  that  if  he  didn't  begin  to  do  some- 


2oo  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

thing  pretty  quick,  he  might  as  well  quit  the  outfit, 
so  he  had  to  ride  with  the  rest,  and  inevitably  be- 
came the  victim  of  every  sort  of  a  practical  joke  the 
men — led  by  the  inventive  Alkali — could  think  of. 

As  they  followed  the  wagon  down  the  slope  the 
men  were  all  in  high  spirits.  The  irksome  duty  of 
breaking  broncs  was  over,  and  while  there  was  a 
lot  of  hard  work  ahead,  it  was  all  in  the  future,  and 
they  were  none  of  them  borrowing  trouble  on  that 
account.  The  weather  was  perfect,  and  since  it 
would  be  impossible  to  reach  the  place  selected  for 
the  round-up  before  the  next  morning,  they  had  a 
whole  day  before  them,  which  was  all  their  own,  and 
they  meant  to  make  the  most  of  it. 

They  had  to  ride  so  slowly  to  keep  with  the  chuck 
wagon  that  Bob  very  soon  got  tired  of  it,  and  de- 
cided to  go  on  with  one  or  two  men  and  make  an 
inspection  of  the  country  and  then  meet  the  wagon 
at  the  camping  place. 

"  You'll  just  about  reach  North  Sampson  wind- 
mill by  sundown,"  he  said  to  the  cook,  who  was 
driving.  "  I'll  meet  you  there."  Then  he  rode  over 
to  the  horsewrangler,  who  was  having  his  own  trou- 


The  Invasion  of  Dalhart          201 

bles  in  keeping  together  the  three  hundred  odd 
horses,  which  constituted  the  spare  mounts  of  the 
party. 

"  Say,  Frank,"  he  called  out.  "  We're  going  to 
camp  at  North  Sampson  to-night,  so  see  that  you 
get  the  bunch  there  all  right.  You  c'n  have  Bronco 
an'  Pete  to  help  you  out,  but  don't  you  take  them 
horses  through  Dalhart,  'cause  if  you  do,  there'll 
be  trouble.  Make  a  circuit  around  to  the  west." 

Having  given  these  instructions,  he  put  spurs  to 
his  horse  and  started  due  north,  accompanied  by 
Shorty  Davis  and  two  other  men.  Hardly  had  they 
disappeared  over  the  prairies,  when  there  was  a 
general  scattering  of  those  left  behind.  Half  a 
dozen  of  the  men  at  once  decided  to  organize  a 
coyote  hunt.  There  was  a  bounty  of  two  dollars 
for  the  scalps  of  these  animals,  and  they  could  spend 
a  very  pleasant,  and  possibly  profitable,  day  in  that 
pursuit.  Two  of  the  others  made  up  their  minds  to 
ride  straight  for  the  windmill,  and  reaching  there 
some  hours  ahead  of  the  wagon,  they  would  have  a 
chance  for  a  good  sleep.  Alkali  and  Ed  made  a  bee- 
line  for  Dalhart. 


202  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

;<  Yuh'd  better  mosie  in  there  after  a  while,"  the 
former  said  to  Bronco.  "  Yuh  c'n  do  it  jest  as  well 
as  not.  Th'  horses  ain't  goin'  t'  act  up,  an'  Bob 
won't  never  know  nothin'  about  it." 

As  they  watched  the  fellows  ride  off  in  various 
directions,  the  boys  felt  rather  cross  at  having  to 
stay  behind.  They  even  envied  Claude,  who,  as 
soon  as  Bob  was  out  of  sight,  had  hitched  his  horse 
to  the  tail  wagon  and  was  now  waving  a  derisive 
farewell  to  them  as  he  lay  comfortably  stretched 
out  at  full  length  on  top  of  the  beds. 

The  horsewrangler,  whom  they  were  to  assist, 
had  one  of  the  meanest  jobs  going.  He  had  entire 
charge  of  the  spare  horses;  he  rounded  them  up 
every  morning,  and  as  soon  as  the  men  had  picked 
out  their  mounts  and  started  the  day's  work,  it  was 
his  duty  to  drive  the  others,  and  have  them  at  the 
round-up  by  the  time  they  were  needed.  He  had 
to  be  always  on  the  alert,  and  it  was  very  hard  to 
see  the  other  men  ride  off  in  a  body,  laughing  and 
fooling,  and  to  know  that  he  had  to  spend  the  entire 
day  alone,  engaged  in  the  tiresome  occupation  of 
driving  the  horses;  allowing  them  to  go  slowly 


The  Invasion  of  Dalhart          203 

enough  to  graze,  and  yet,  not  let  them  spread  out 
and  become  separated,  so  that  they  could  not  be 
easily  gotten  together  again. 

It  is  a  comparatively  easy  matter  to  drive  a  bunch 
of  horses  when  they  are  going  at  a  good  gallop;  it 
then  becomes  a  sort  of  follow-your-leader  game  and 
they  don't  have  time  to  stop,  and  graze,  and  stray 
away.  This,  however,  was  strictly  against  the  rules, 
for  the  idea  was  for  them  to  pick  up  plenty  of 
grass  by  the  way,  and  to  reach  the  place  where  they 
were  to  be  used  in  good  condition.  But,  notwith- 
standing all  this,  it  was  occasionally  done. 

"  I  don't  know  how  yuh  fellows  feel  about  it," 
Frank  said,  as  they  rode  slowly  along,  "  but  I 
want  t'  spend  an  hour  in  Dalhart  th'  worst  way. 
What  d'yuh  say  t'  run  th'  bunch  in  t'  th'  corral 
there  an'  have  a  couple  o'  hours  t'  ourselves?  " 

"  I'm  game,"  Bronco  said.  "  I  reckon  they'll  be 
safe  enough  there,  an'  Bob  ain't  likely  t'  find  it 
out." 

Donald  agreed  with  alacrity,  for  he  needed  a  hair- 
cut badly,  and  this  would  be  a  good  time  to  get  it; 
so  they  bunched  the  horses  well  up,  and  running 


204  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

behind  them,  shouting  and  waving  their  hats,  they 
soon  had  them  going  beautifully. 

Dalhart  was  some  twenty  miles  to  the  northeast, 
and  when  they  stopped  at  a  spring  for  a  rest,  about 
noon,  they  had  covered  three-quarters  of  that  dis- 
tance. 

After  starting  on  again  everything  went  well  un- 
til they  were  within  a  couple  of  miles  of  the  town. 
Frank  had  decided  to  slow  the  horses  down  at  this 
point,  and  bring  them  in  at  a  walk.  His  idea  was  to 
drive  them  into  the  town  corral,  and  leave  them 
there  until  five  o'clock,  which  would  giye  the  boys 
a  good  three  hours,  and  still  allow  them  plenty  of 
time  to  reach  North  Sampson  before  sundown. 

Unfortunately,  even  the  best-laid  plans  will  some- 
times miscarry.  The  bunch  was  going  at  a  fairly 
good  speed  and  the  three  cow-punchers  had  just 
started  forward  to  bring  them  down  to  a  walk, 
when  a  copy  of  the  Lone  Star  Weekly  Gazette,  open 
to  its  fullest  extent,  appeared  in  sight,  borne  over 
the  prairie  by  the  brisk  westerly  wind.  It  flapped 
along  in  an  erratic  way,  just  skimming  the  ground, 
and  when  it  was  within  twenty  feet  of  the  leaders 


The  Invasion  of  Dalhart          205 

of  the  herd,  an  eddy  took  it  straight  up  into  the 
air  and  over  their  heads,  to  the  accompaniment  of 
a  loud  rustling  noise.  That  was  enough.  In  an 
instant  the  whole  bunch  was  off  in  a  mad  rush,  and 
headed  directly  for  Dalhart. 


CHAPTER  XX 
THE  ROUND-UP 

THERE  was  only  one  street  in  the  town,  and 
all  the  buildings  straggled  along  this,  on 
one  side  or  the  other,  leaving  a  roadway  of  nearly 
a  hundred  and  fifty  feet.  There  was  a  rough, 
wooden  sidewalk,  raised  about  six  inches  from  the 
ground,  and  in  front  of  every  store  was  a  hitching 
rack,  to  which  were  tied  saddle  horses,  teams,  and 
single  horses  harnessed  to  wagons  of  every  descrip- 
tion, while  their  owners  did  their  business  within. 

When  the  three  hundred  horses  struck  town  they 
were  going  at  a  wild  gallop,  and  they  filled  the  street 
from  side  to  side,  like  a  torrent,  and  carried  every- 
thing before  them. 

Snap  went  the  bridle  reins  of  the  first  horse  they 
struck,  and  he  joined  the  stampede.  The  next  in- 
stant a  team  attached  to  a  heavy  farm  wagon  fol- 
lowed suit,  and  the  loud  rattle  of  the  wagon  only 

served  to  increase  the  speed  of  the  flying  animals. 

206 


The  Round-Up  207 

Then  came  a  horse  hitched  to  a  light  buggy;  then 
more  saddle  horses,  until  in  two  short  minutes,  not 
a  horse  was  left  in  the  town,  save  for  two  or  three 
in  the  corral,  and  the  X  L  bunch  continued  their 
wild  career  over  the  prairie,  augmented  by  some 
twenty-five  saddle  horses,  with  assorted  brands,  and 
ten  or  twelve  teams  attached  to  an  equal  variety  of 
wagons. 

The  three  cow-punchers  followed  close  behind, 
doing  their  best  to  get  around  to  the  front  and  head 
off  the  leaders;  but  they  had  run  fully  three  miles 
from  town  before  they  finally  succeeded  in  bring- 
ing them  to  a  halt.  Then  they  looked  at  each  other 
in  dismay. 

"  Mama  !  we've  sure  done  it  this  time,"  Bronco 
said,  as  he  mopped  his  forehead.  "  They'll  be 
buzzin'  around  here  like  a  swarm  o'  bees  in  about 
five  minutes." 

Frank  swore  roundly  at  the  horses,  and  then  the 
funny  side  of  it  struck  them  all  at  once,  and  they 
burst  into  a  shout  of  laughter. 

"  We'd  better  have  an  auction  of  second-hand 
wagons  while  we've  got  'em,"  Donald  said,  when  he 


20 8  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

got  his  breath.  "  Jimminy  !  look  at  that  one;  it's  all 
smashed  up." 

"Look  out,  boys;  here  they  come,"  Bronco  sang 
out.  "  Mebbe  they'll  string  us  up  for  horse  thieves." 

Three  horsemen  were  coming  toward  them  at  a 
run,  and  a  couple  of  minutes  later  Alkali,  Ed,  and 
Jack  Hardy,  the  sheriff,  rode  up. 

"  What  the  deuce  are  you  fellows  trying  to  do?  " 
the  latter  exclaimed.  "  Don't  you  know  no  better'n 
t*  bring  them  horses  through  town  ?  " 

"  Sorry,  Jack,"  Bronco  drawled.  "  They  got 
started  two  miles  the  other  side,  an'  we  couldn't 
stop  'em." 

"  Humph !  Well,  there'll  be  a  nice  bill  come  to  t' 
th'  company  for  this.  There  ain't  a  whole  bridle  rein 
or  halter  left  in  th'  lot,  an'  you  never  seen  such  a 
mad  bunch  as  there  is  back  in  town.  They  certainly 
did  make  a  clean  sweep,"  he  added,  to  Alkali,  his 
lips  twitching  a  little  as  he  surveyed  the  varied  as- 
sortment of  rigs. 

"They  sure  did,"  Alkali  answered.  "  Yuh'd 
oughter  arrest  'em,  Jack,  for  running  off  horses." 

"  That's  what  old  man  Jackson  wanted  me  t'  do. 


The  Round-Up  209 

He's  mad  enough  t'  eat  'em  up  now;  just  wait  'till 
he  sees  his  buggy.  Well,  get  busy,  boys,"  he  went 
on,  in  a  sharper  tone.  "  Pick  'em  out  an'  take  'em 
back  t'  town." 

Alkali  and  Ed  lent  them  a  hand,  and  they  started 
at  once  to  cut  out  the  strange  horses  and  drive 
them  back  to  town.  The  things  which  were  said 
when  they  reached  there  were  more  forcible  than 
polite. 

When  it  was  all  over  they  went  back  to  their  own 
horses  and  headed  for  North  Sampson. 

"  Yuh've  sure  had  an'  interestin'  day,"  Alkali  re- 
marked, as  they  rode  leisurely  along.  "  Won't  yuh 
catch  it  when  Bob  hears  about  it." 

"  I  'spose  we  might  as  well  tell  him,"  Bronco 
grumbled.  "  He'll  find  it  out,  anyway.  Most  likely 
he'll  dock  us  t'  pay  for  them  bridle  reins." 

"  I  expect  he  will,"  Alkali  said.  "  Well,  I'm  glad 
I  didn't  have  nothin'  t'  do  with  it." 

"  It's  about  th'  first  time  on  record,"  Bronco  re- 
torted. "  You  just  didn't  happen  t'  be  around." 

Their  expectations  were  fully  realized.  When 
Bob  heard  the  story,  toned  down  as  it  was  in  the 


2  i  o  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

telling,  he  was  extremely  angry,  and  at  first  he  was 
going  to  lay  them  all  off.  He  finally  decided,  how- 
ever, that  if  they  paid  what  damages  resulted,  they 
could  stay. 

It  proved  to  be  a  rather  expensive  amusement: 
for  about  every  male  in  Dalhart  put  in  a  claim  for 
a  new  hitching  strap  or  pair  of  bridle  reins,  to  say 
nothing  of  damages  to  wagons,  and  the  three  un- 
fortunates were  very  short  of  cash  for  some  months 
to  come. 

Next  morning  they  were  up  before  the  sun,  and 
about  four  o'clock  set  out  to  round  up  the  cattle. 
Bob  took  half  the  men  and  Shorty  Davis  the  other, 
and  leaving  camp,  they  went  in  opposite  directions. 
They  rode  in  a  circle  having  a  circumference  of 
some  eight  or  nine  miles,  and  at  intervals  of  half 
a  mile  the  men  were  dropped  off  and  proceeded  to 
ride  toward  the  center 'of  "the  circle,  driving  before 
them  all  the  cattle  which  they  found  in  their  sec- 
tion; the  object  being  to  collect  them  all  together  in 
one  place,  where  the  steers  they  wanted  could  be  cut 
out  from  the  rest  and  shipped. 

Donald  was  with  Bob's  gang,  and  about  two  miles 


The  Round-Up  211 

from  the  starting  point  he  was  dropped  off,  with  in- 
structions to  drive  everything  in  to  the  center. 

He  did  not  find  this  at  all  difficult.  The  coun- 
try was  very  flat,  and  a  great  many  trails  ran  along 
in  the  direction  he  wanted  to  follow,  so  he  got  on 
very  well  except  that  several  times  he  lost  his  sense 
of  direction  and  ran  over  into  the  sections  covered 
on  one  side  by  Alkali,  and  on  the  other  by  Kentucky 
Bill,  and  mixed  his  cattle  up  with  theirs.  There 
was  no  harm  done,  however,  and  about  seven  o'clock 
he  reached  the  round-up  grounds  and  found  a  vast 
number  of  cattle — thousands,  it  seemed  to  him — 
congregated  on  the  bare,  level  expanse. 

Most  of  the  men  were  already  in,  and  Frank  was 
holding  the  remuda  a  short  distance  away  from  the 
cattle.  The  "  remuda  "  was  the  name  applied  to 
the  bunch  of  spare  horses  belonging  to  the  outfit, 
and  the  term  puzzled  Donald  not  a  little.  Bob  told 
him  that  it  came  from  a  Spanish  word  which  meant 
saddle-band;  but  he  couldn't  give  any  explanation 
of  its  use. 

When  the  last  man  had  come  in  they  all  dis- 
mounted and  unsaddled.  Then  each  one  took  down 


212  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

his  catch  rope,  and  holding  one  end  of  it  in  his  hand, 
passed  the  other  to  his  neighbor,  so  that  they  were 
presently  spread  out  in  a  long  line,  and  as  soon  as 
Frank  started  to  drive  the  horses  up,  the  ends  of  the 
line  slowly  closed  in,  and  in  a  short  time  they 
formed  a  regular  corral  surrounding  the  horses. 

At  this  point  Bob  entered  the  corral,  rope  in  hand, 
and  as  each  man  sung  out  the  name  of  the  horse 
he  wanted  to  ride,  he  roped  him  and  led  him  to 
where  the  cow-puncher  stood  in  the  ring.  When 
every  man  had  a  horse  the  corral  at  once  dissolved 
into  its  original  elements;  the  men  saddled  up  and 
in  a  few  minutes  were  ready  for  business. 

Donald  was  told  to  help  hold  the  herd,  and  he 
didn't  find  this  particularly  hard.  It  consisted  sim- 
ply in  riding  around  and  around  the  cattle,  and 
keeping  them  together.  Once  in  a  while  some  en- 
terprising steer  would  make  a  dash  for  liberty  and 
had  to  be  pursued  and  brought  back;  but  as  a  rule 
they  behaved  very  quietly,  and  Donald  had  plenty 
of  chances  to  see  the  cutting-out,  which  he  watched 
with  great  interest. 

Bob  and  Shorty  did  that  part  of  it,  and  he  won- 


The  Round-Up  213 

dered  at  the  ease  with  which  they  picked  one  steer, 
after  another  out  of  the  herd  and  passed  them  to 
Alkali  and  Ed,  who  in  turn  drove  them  over  to  a 
flat  bit  of  ground  backed  by  a  high  knoll,  where  two 
more  of  the  men  prevented  them  from  running  back 
to  the  main  body. 

This  was  kept  up  all  that  day  and  until  it  was  so 
dark  that  they  could  not  see,  and  when  they  stopped 
for  the  night  there  were  over  a  thousand  steers  cut 
out,  and  the  herd  had  been  pretty  well  picked  over. 
No  further  attention  was  paid  to  the  heifers  and 
yearlings;  they  were  allowed  to  go  where  they 
pleased;  but  two  men  had  to  keep  constantly  riding 
around  the  steers  to  prevent  them  from  straying  off. 
They  were  relieved  every  three  hours  during  the 
night,  and  the  next  day  the  cattle  were  driven  to 
Perica,  where  the  cattle  cars  were  waiting  on  a  sid- 
ing of  the  Denver  and  Fort  Worth. 

Here  the  steers  were  driven  into  the  shipping  pen 
from  which  a  runway  led  up  to  the  track.  A  heavy 
railed-in,  inclined  plane  was  set  up  at  the  door  of 
the  car,  and  the  steers  pushed  and  prodded  up  this 
until  it  was  filled.  It  was  hot,  tiresome  work,  and 


214  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

there  were  few  enlivening  features,  though  Ken- 
tucky Bill  did  manage  to  afford  considerable 
amusement  for  a  few  minutes  early  in  the  morning. 
He  was  on  horseback  and  was  prodding  a  bunch  of 
steers  up  the  runway,  when  one  of  them  suddenly 
stopped  still  at  the  foot  of  the  incline.  Kentucky's 
horse,  having  some  little  momentum,  went  straight 
on,  and  rearing  up,  came  down  directly  on  the  steer's 
back.  That  animal  instantly  started  ahead  and  car- 
ried horse,  man,  and  all  into  the  car.  Everybody 
roared  with  laughter  except  Kentucky  Bill:  he 
couldn't  see  anything  funny  about  it. 

Donald  was  very  glad  when  it  was  all  over,  and 
the  cars  had  been  picked  up  by  the  Denver  freight. 
One  of  the  men  went  along  to  look  after  the  cattle, 
and  the  rest  of  them  started  for  a  point  some  twenty 
miles  to  the  westward  to  hold  another  round-up. 
This  time  some  two  thousand  head  had  to  be  gath- 
ered together  and  sent  down  to  the  South  Ranch, 
another  section  of  the  X  L  outfit,  which  was  located 
about  a  hundred  miles  south  of  the  Canadian  and 
run  under  entirely  different  supervision. 

Bob  outlined  his  instructions  to  Shorty,  and,  leav- 


The  Round-Up  215 

ing  him  in  charge,  went  back  to  Rita  Blanca, 
promising  to  join  them  sometime  next  day.  Not 
long  after  his  departure  Bronco  and  Donald  decided 
that  this  was  an  excellent  time  for  giving  Pink  Eye 
a  little  anti-backing  treatment.  Alkali  was  easily 
persuaded  to  join  them,  and  they  at  once  proceeded 
to  carry  out  the  scheme.  Two  catch  ropes  were  tied 
together,  and  one  end  fastened  to  the  horn  of  each 
saddle.  Donald  then  roped  Pink  Eye,  and  putting 
on  the  saddle,  mounted,  with  the  assistance  of  Ed. 

The  moment  he  was  in  the  saddle  Pink  Eye,  with 
customary  promptness,  commenced  to  back.  In 
about  five  seconds  he  had  backed  into  the  rope  which 
hung  low,  and  as  he  did  so  Alkali  and  Bronco 
started  forward  and  caught  him  neatly  with  it  under 
the  tail.  Then  they  spurred  their  horses  to  a  gal- 
lop, and  a  more  surprised  animal  than  Pink  Eye 
would  have  been  hard  to  find.  For  a  minute  he  tried 
to  hang  back,  but  there  was  no  resisting  the  pres- 
sure of  the  rope,  and  he  simply  had  to  run  with  the 
others. 

They  kept  this  up  for  nearly  a  mile,  and  then 
slowed  down,  and  the  moment  the  pressure  of  the 


2i 6  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

rope  ceased  Pink  Eye  stopped  running,  and  dropping 
his  head,  began  to  pitch,  to  the  great  amusement  of 
Bronco  and  Alkali.  Though  rather  unprepared  for 
it,  Donald  stuck  on  for  five  or  six  minutes,  and  then 
suddenly  he  heard  a  terrific  crash  behind  him,  fol- 
lowed by  a  volume  of  exclamations,  most  of  them 
quite  unprintable.  Overcome  with  curiosity,  he 
turned  in  his  saddle,  and  as  he  did  so,  Pink  Eye  gave 
an  extra  special  buck,  and  the  boy  landed  on  his  neck 
in  a  bunch  of  sage  brush. 


CHAPTER  XXI 
ON  TRAIL 

AS  he  sprang  to  his  feet  and  looked  back  Donald 
couldn't  imagine  what  had  happened.  The 
two  horses  lay  on  the  ground  struggling  to  rise: 
Alkali  was  just  getting  up,  rubbing  his  head  and 
swearing  profusely,  while  a  little  way  off  sat 
Bronco,  shaking  with  laughter. 

"  What  the  dickens  are  you  fellows  trying  to 
do  ?  "  he  asked,  as  he  walked  back.  "  Did  you 
strike  a  dog  town  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Mama ! "  Bronco  gasped,  as  soon  as  he 
could  speak.  "  Nothing  like  that.  Th'  drinks  is  on 
us,  Pete.  I've  done  some  fool  tricks,  but  nothin' 
as  bad  as  this;  leastwise  not  for  some  time." 

"What  in  the  world  did  you  do?"  asked  the 
mystified  Donald,  overcome  by  curiosity. 

"  Throwed  ourselves,"  Bronco  returned,  as  he 
rose  to  his  feet  and  shook  off  the  dust.  "  We  was 

so  busy  watchin'  yuh  an'  Pink  Eye,  we  clean  forgot 

217 


2 1 8  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

we  was  hitched  together.  The  minute  we  started  t' 
ride  away  from  each  other  th'  rope  tightened  up 
sudden  an'  pulled  us  both  down." 

Donald  thoroughly  appreciated  the  joke,  espe- 
cially as  it  was  something  he  was  quite  equal  to  do- 
ing himself,  but  he  did  not  laugh  so  much  when  he 
discovered  that  Pink  Eye  and  his  saddle  had  disap- 
peared. He  was  located  half  an  hour  later  with  the 
other  horses;  roped,  and  the  saddle  put  on  a  less 
erratic  mount.  Then,  having  delayed  over  an  hour, 
the  party  went  on  again,  reaching  their  destination 
about  seven  o'clock. 

The  round-up  which  commenced  next  morning 
lasted  for  two  days,  and  at  the  end  of  that  time  they 
had  cut  out  the  two  thousand  steers,  and  were  all 
ready  to  start  for  South  Ranch.  At  the  last  minute 
Bob  decided  not  to  go  with  them.  He  was  anxious 
to  look  after  some  repairs  to  the  dipping  vats  at 
Madlock  Camp,  so  he  turned  the  herd  over  to  Shorty 
and  told  him  to  pick  out  eight  men  to  take  with  him. 
Much  to  his  satisfaction,  Donald  was  chosen,  and 
among  the  others  were  Alkali  and  Bronco. 

This  was  the  sort  of  work  the  men  liked.    They 


On  Trail  219 

were  always  ready  to  go  on  trail,  particularly  when 
Bob  was  not  with  them.  The  latter  was  an  ex- 
tremely valuable  man  to  his  employers.  He  worked 
hard  himself,  and  expected  every  one  else  to  do  the 
same,  and  if  any  of  the  men  didn't  come  up  to  the 
mark,  he  wasn't  kept  long  with  the  outfit.  They 
were,  consequently,  very  circumspect  in  their  be- 
haviour when  Bob  was  about,  and  when  he  wasn't, 
though  there  was  no  actual  shirking  of  duties,  there 
was  a  noticeable  let-up  in  the  strain  and  rush  of  ac- 
complishing things.  While  Bob  was  directing  ope- 
rations one  might  have  thought  it  the  last  and  only 
day  in  which  work  could  be  done:  when  he  was 
elsewhere  the  men  apparently  had  more  faith  in 
Providence. 

With  characteristic  impetuosity,  Bob  started  for 
Madlock  at  five  in  the  afternoon.  The  men  passed 
a  pleasant  evening  in  camp,  and  were  not  on  their 
way  until  seven  next  morning.  Their  progress  was 
slow.  The  cattle  had  to  graze,  and  rarely  made 
more  than  twenty  miles  a  day,  so  that  the  trip 
was  good  for  a  week,  at  least;  but  the  boys  didn't 
mind  that,  for  it  was  very  little  trouble  to  look  after 


22O  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

the  herd,  and  they  had  plenty  of  time  for  all  sorts 
of  amusements  and  horseplay. 

At  such  times  Claude  shone,  though  not  in  an  en- 
viable light;  the  only  drawback  being  that  he  was 
so  tremendously  easy  and  swallowed  anything  and 
everything  which  was  told  him  with  such  avidity 
that  it  soon  ceased  to  be  much  of  a  pleasure  to  get 
him  to  bite.  The  very  first  night  in  camp  he  was 
wondering  whether  it  would  rain  before  they  got 
back,  and  complaining  that  he  had  no  tarp.  As  it 
had  not  rained  at  night  for  six  weeks,  his  anxiety 
seemed  rather  premature;  but  Alkali,  who  was  all 
ready  to  oblige  him,  offered  to  sell  him  one  cheap. 

"  There  ain't  a  thing  th'  matter  with  it,  exceptin' 
a  little  hole  in  th'  side,"  he  said.  "  Cost  me  twelve 
dollars;  but  yuh  c'n  have  it  fur  nine." 

Claude  looked  it  carefully  over,  and  found  that  it 
was  all  right  except  for  a  rip  about  an  inch  long. 
Apparently  he  didn't  realize  that  a  tarp  with  a  hole 
in,  no  matter  how  small,  was  about  as  useless  as 
none  at  all,  for  he  offered  Alkali  six  dollars.  The 
latter  protested  that  he  was  being  robbed,  so  after 
much  haggling,  Claude  finally  agreed  to  pay  $7.50. 


On  Trail  221 

He  carried  it  around  for  a  month,  and  then,  the  first 
time  he  used  it,  got  almost  as  wet  as  if  he  hadn't  had 
any. 

The  second  night  they  camped  about  ten  miles 
west  of  Rita  Blanca,  and  Kentucky  Bill  rode  in  for 
some  supplies.  He  returned  about  eight  o'clock,  and 
unsaddling,  came  over  to  the  fire. 

"  Say,  Pete,"  he  said.  "  Remember  that  Greaser 
we  got  over  th'  line  ?  " 

"Which  one?"  Donald  asked.  "The  little  fel- 
low?" 

"  Nope :  th'  big  one  yuh  shot  up.  Well ;  he's 
broke  loose.  Got  out  o'  jail  two  days  ago,  an'  they 
ain't  found  him  yet.  They  reckon  he's  makin'  fur 
th'  Mexican  border." 

"  Well,  I  hope  he  does,"  Donald  remarked.  "  If 
he's  out,  I  don't  want  him  to  stay  around  here.  I'm 
not  anxious  to  see  him  again." 

Though  he  made  light  of  it,  the  news  gave  Don- 
ald a  more  or  less  uneasy  feeling.  He  hadn't  for- 
gotten the  look  of  venomous  hate  the  scarred  Mexi- 
can had  given  him  that  morning  they  departed  from 
Poloma  in  charge  of  the  Sheriff,  and  it  certainly 


222  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

wasn't  pleasant  to  know  that  he  was  at  large.  How- 
ever, he  would  scarcely  stay  around  the  ranch  when 
he  knew  that  every  effort  would  be  made  to  find 
him.  No  doubt  he  was  already  well  on  his  way  to 
the  border,  so  Donald  dismissed  the  subject  from  his 
mind,  and  picking  up  his  saddle,  strolled  off  with 
Bronco  to  find  his  horse,  and  go  on  night  guard. 

Their  watch  was  from  eight  to  eleven,  and  throw- 
ing their  saddles  on  a  couple  of  gentle  night  horses, 
the  two  rode  leisurely  over  the  prairie  to  where  the 
herd  was  bunched,  half  a  mile  away. 

As  they  approached,  they  saw  the  tiny,  fluctuating 
glow  of  a  cigarette  ahead,  and  presently  a  voice 
spoke  from  out  the  darkness  in  a  grieved  tone. 

"  Takin'  yuhr  time,  ain't  yuh  ?  Spose  yuh  think 
we  don't  never  want  nothin'  t'  eat." 

"  What's  your  hurry,  Alkali  ? "  Donald  said. 
"  It's  only  eight  o'clock." 

"  It's  three  minutes  past,"  Alkali  said  positively. 
"  Yuh  fellows  ought  t'  learn  t'  be  on  time.  Bill  get 
back  yet?" 

"  Yes ;  he  just  came  in." 

"  Bring  any  canned  peaches  ?  " 


On  Trail  223 

"  No;  only  bacon  and  lard." 

"  I  knowed  he  wouldn't,"  Alkali  remarked,  in 
gloomy  triumph.  "  Son  of  a  gun  never  thinks  uh 
gettin'  anythin'  fit  t'  eat.  He'd  ought  t'  be  chapped. 
When  does  Chico  go  on  ?  " 

"  Eleven,"  Bronco  answered.    "  He  relieves  us." 

"  Yuh  mean  yuh  think  he  will,"  Alkali  said  sig- 
nificantly, as  he  gathered  up  his  reins.  "Ain't  yuh 
never  seed  'em  try  t'  wake  him  up  in  th'  mornin'? 
Well,  s'long." 

Left  to  themselves,  Bronco  and  Donald  separated, 
and  began  their  slow  progress  around  and  around 
the  herd,  and  strange  to  say,  this  proved  anything 
but  monotonous  to  the  latter. 

Somehow,  to-night  the  powerful  fascination  of 
the  range  land  gripped  him  like  a  vise.  The  infinite 
expanse  of  bluish-black  above  him,  strewn  with  the 
countless  myriads  of  glittering  stars;  the  touch  of 
the  cool  night  wind  upon  his  face ;  the  low  rustle  of 
it  across  the  prairie — even  the  deep,  heavy  breathing 
of  the  sleeping  cattle,  broken  now  and  then  by  a 
restless  movement — each  one  seemed  an  inseparable 
part  of  the  whole.  Presently  the  long,  mournful 


224  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

howl  of  the  coyote  came  from  far  out  on  the  flat 
expanse,  and  seemed  to  intensify  the  feeling  of  vast- 
ness  and  freedom  and  isolation ;  and  he  found  him- 
self thinking  of  what  he  had  missed  in  all  these 
years  that  he  had  never  known  it,  and  wondering 
what  he  should  ever  do  if  he  were  obliged  to  leave  it. 
Then  the  moon  rose,  and  the  silvery  light,  flood- 
ing the  plains,  made  a  picture  of  such  wonderful 
beauty  that  the  realization  of  it  came  upon  him'  like 
a  sharp  stab  of  pain. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

THE  MAN  WITH  THE  SCAR 

HE  rode  slowly  on,  unconscious  of  the  passing 
time;  unconscious  of  everything,  in  fact, 
save  the  scene  which  was  spread  out  before  him. 
Then  he  met  Bronco  coming  from  the  other  direc- 
tion, and  they  pulled  up  their  horses. 

"  It  sure  looks  beautiful  to-night,"  the  latter  said 
presently,  in  a  low  voice.  "  Sometimes  I  think  I'd 
cash  in  if  I  had  to  go  'way  from  it.  I  reckon  it's 
something  that  gets  in  your  blood,  an'  you  can't 
get  it  out." 

"  I  know,"  Donald  said  softly.  "  I've  been  feel- 
ing that  way  all  evening." 

There  was  silence  for  a  few  moments,  and  then 
Bronco  went  on  more  briskly. 

"  Well,  it's  eleven  o'clock.  I  '11  go  in  an'  wake  up 
Kentucky  an'  Chico.  They  ought  t'  be  out  in  ten 
minutes." 

In  about  fifteen  Kentucky  appeared  with  the  in- 
225 


226  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

formation  that  Chico  had  at  length  been  aroused, 
and  would  be  along  presently;  so,  after  a  few  min- 
utes' desultory  chatting,  Donald  started  back  to 
camp. 

He  had  almost  reached  it  when  he  saw  in  the 
moonlight  a  figure  riding  off  to  the  westward,  and 
after  an  instant's  hesitation,  he  turned  and  fol- 
lowed it. 

In  a  few  minutes  he  saw  that  it  was  Claude,  am- 
bling along  at  a  snail's  pace  in  a  direction  which, 
if  pursued  long  enough,  would  bring  him  to  New 
Mexico,  but  which  was  almost  opposite  to  where  the 
cattle  were. 

"  Where  the  deuce  are  you  going,  Chico  ?  "  he 
asked,  rather  sharply,  as  he  came  up  to  him. 

Claude  gave  a  start,  and  straightened  up;  he  had 
been  half  asleep. 

"  Out  t'  th'  herd,  uh  course,"  he  said  peevishly. 
"  D'yuh  think  I  was  goin'  t'  Santa  Fe?  " 

"  You're  headed  that  way,  if  you  keep  on  long 
enough,"  Donald  remarked,  with  a  grin.  "  The 
herd's  back  there,"  and  he  motioned  with  his  arm 
to  the  northeast. 


The  Man  with  the  Scar          227 

"  Well,  why  didn't  somebody  tell  me  ?  How  do 
I  know  if  they  don't  tell  me?  I  ain't  no  mind- 
reader.  I  can't  see  in  the  dark,  neither." 

Donald  decided  that  the  safest  thing  to  do  was  to 
show  Claude  exactly  where  he  wanted  to  go,  so  he 
turned  back  with  him  and  rode  to  within  sight  of 
the  cattle.  Then,  leaving  him,  he  went  back  to  camp 
at  a  gallop,  unsaddled  and  tumbled  into  bed. 

He  was  just  dozing  off  when  he  heard  a  horse 
come  up  to  the  wagon,  around  which  they  were 
sleeping,  and  a  minute  later  someone  stumbled  into 
the  hole  dug  for  the  cook's  fire,  knocking  down  the 
entire  row  of  pots  and  skillets,  which  fell  with  a 
tremendous  clatter. 

"Who  th'  deuce  is  that?"  exclaimed  Shorty, 
sitting  up  suddenly.  Then  he  recognized  Claude. 
"  What  in  tarnation  are  yuh  doin'  here,  Chico  ? 
Why  ain't  yuh  out  with  th'  herd  ?  " 

"Well,"  Claude  began,  "they  started  to  walk 
away " 

"  Walk  away !  "  Shorty  shouted.  "  Well,  why  th' 
devil  didn't  yuh  stop  'em?  What  d'yuh  think 
yuh're  there  for?  Now  yuh  git  back  there  as  fast 


228  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

as  yuh  c'n  go,  an'  if  them  steers  is  scattered  t'mor- 
row  yuh  c'n  have  a  horse  t'  ride  t'  town  th'  first  shot 
out  uh  th'  box.  Savvy  ?  " 

To  have  a  horse  to  ride  to  town  meant  dismissal. 
Consequently  Claude  lost  no  time  in  hurrying  back 
to  the  cattle,  and  was  seen  no  more  that  night.  The 
herd  was  all  right  in  the  morning,  but  just  how 
much  of  this  was  due  to  good  luck  and  how  much  to 
Kentucky  Bill  was  hard  to  say. 

About  the  most  thoroughly  detested  man  in  the 
outfit  was  the  cook.  He  was  a  fat  Dutchman  called 
Heiny,  with  an  extremely  disagreeable  disposition. 
He  was  a  good  cook,  but  he  was  sullen  and  surly; 
always  complaining  and  finding  fault,  so  that  the 
boys  hated  him,  and  did  everything  they  could  to 
pay  him  up  for  his  meanness,  and  make  his  life  mis- 
erable. Besides  cooking,  he  drove  the  wagon,  and 
there  was  a  continual  bickering  between  him  and  the 
others  about  the  way  it  was  loaded. 

Late  the  next  afternoon  they  reached  the  Cana- 
dian, and  having  decided  to  camp  on  the  other  side, 
the  party  started  into  the  breaks,  with  the  wagon 
in  the  lead.  Heiny  wanted  to  camp  on  the  north 


The  Man  with  the  Scar          229 

side,  but  he  had  been  overruled,  and  was  in  a  very 
surly  frame  of  mind  as  he  sat  bunched  up  on  the 
seat,  muttering  to  himself.  There  had  been  a  few 
clouds  that  afternoon,  so  he  wore  a  slicker  as  a  pre- 
caution. The  others  had  not  taken  the  trouble  to 
put  on  theirs,  which  were  all  piled  in  the  trail 
wagon,  and  Donald,  riding  close  behind,  noticed 
that  some  of  them  were  slipping  off  the  end. 

"  Say,  Heiny,"  he  called.  "  The  slickers  are  go- 
ing to  drop  out." 

There  was  no  reply.  Only  a  severe,  pursed-up 
expression  of  the  lips;  whereupon  Donald  repeated 
the  remark  in  a  louder  tone. 

"  I  hear  you.  I  hear  you,"  snapped  the  cook. 
"  Led  them  drob." 

Which  they  did  a  few  minutes  later,  and  as  Don- 
ald picked  them  up  and  tossed  them  back  into  the 
wagon,  he  made  some  very  uncomplimentary  re- 
marks about  fat  Dutchmen.  As  he  did  so  he  no- 
ticed on  one  of  the  others  lying  there,  Heiny's  name 
stamped  on  the  collar.  Evidently  the  Dutchman  had 
gotten  some  one  else's  on  by  mistake,  and  making  no 
comment,  Donald  rode  leisurely  on  again. 


230  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

He  kept  his  eye  on  the  slicker,  however,  and  was 
pleased  to  see  that  it  was  gradually  slipping  toward 
the  end  of  the  wagon.  Presently  they  started  down 
the  steep  incline  toward  the  river,  and  as  they  went 
over  the  edge,  the  jolt  dislodged  the  rolled-up 
slicker,  and  it  dropped  down,  and  was  caught  be- 
tween the  wheel  and  the  brake,  just  as  Heiny  put 
the  latter  on. 

"  Slow  up  a  minute,  Heiny,"  he  yelled.  "  There's 
a  slicker  caught  in  the  brake." 

The  cook  paid  no  attention,  but  drove  stolidly  on. 
In  a  couple  of  minutes  more  there  was  a  sound  of 
tearing  stuff,  and  three  or  four  of  the  men  yelled 
at  him  to  stop,  which  he  did  with  apparent  diffi- 
culty. 

"  Yuh  darn  fool,"  Shorty  said  angrily,  "  why 
th'  deuce  don't  yuh  stop  when  yuh're  told? 
Somebody's  slicker's  ripped  to  pieces  in  the 
brake." 

"How  can  I  helb  thad?"  Heiny  said  crossly. 
"  I  did  not  pag  the  vagon.  You  paged  id." 

"  It's  too  bad,  Heiny,"  Donald  said  sweetly. 
"  It's  your  slicker  that's  spoilt." 


The  Man  with  the  Scar          231 

"  Can'd  you  see  I  haf  my  sliger  on?  "  Heiny  said 
scornfully.  "  You  talk  foolish." 

"  Well,  this  one's  got  your  name  on,  all  right," 
Donald  said,  holding  up  the  tattered  remains.  "  I'll 
bet  you  have  somebody  else's  on." 

With  a  hasty  exclamation,  Heiny  pulled  off  the 
slicker,  and  sure  enough,  there  was  Kentucky  Bill's 
name  branded  on  the  back.  The  cook  broke  into  a 
stream  of  Dutch  profanity. 

"  Thad  is  nice,"  he  sputtered.  "A  new  sliger 
spoiled.  Id  is  a  pud-up  job.  None  uf  you  would 
dell  me." 

"  Pete  told  yuh  half  a  dozen  times,"  Shorty  said. 
"  Only  you  didn't  think  it  was  yours.  Serves  yuh 
good  an'  proper.  Maybe  yuh  won't  be  so  hard  of 
hearin'  next  time." 

Heiny  continued  to  bemoan  the  loss  of  his  slicker 
for  days,  and  when  he  showed  signs  of  forgetting 
it  the  others  were  quick  to  remind  him  at  all  times 
and  occasions,  and  it  was  considered  quite  a  case 
of  just  retribution. 

Having  crossed  the  Canadian  and  gotten  well 
away  from  the  ranch,  the  men  proceeded  to  adopt 


232  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

a  method  of  progress  of  which  it  was  extremely 
doubtful  that  Bob  would  approve.  The  slow  riding 
incidental  to  the  continual  grazing  of  the  cattle  be- 
came very  tiresome,  so  they  made  a  change.  They 
would  start  off  in  the  morning  and  drive  them  at 
a  good  speed  for  two  or  three  hours,  and  then  stop 
altogether  and  let  them  graze  for  a  while.  This 
made  it  necessary  for  two  of  them  to  be  constantly 
on  day  herd  duty,  but  the  others  were  free  to  have 
a  game  of  cards,  take  a  sleep  in  the  shade  of  the 
wagon,  or  do  anything  they  pleased. 

The  second  day  after  leaving  the  Canadian  Alkali 
and  Donald  were  left  to  look  after  the  herd,  while 
the  others  congregated  around  the  wagon,  which 
was  drawn  up  in  the  shade  of  some  cotton- 
woods  along  a  small  stream.  The  cattle  kept  well 
together,  for  the  grass  was  thick  and  plentiful,  and 
after  a  couple  of  circuits,  the  two  stationed  them- 
selves on  opposite  sides  of  the  herd. 

It  was  very  hot  and  Donald,  growing  drowsy, 
thought  he  might  as  well  take  a  little  nap.  There 
was  small  chance  of  the  cattle  straying,  and  if  they 
did,  he  felt  sure  Freckles  would  awaken  him.  So 


The  Man  with  the  Scar          233 

he  rode  over  to  a  thick  clump  of  mesquites,  and  dis- 
mounting, tied  the  ends  of  his  bridle  reins  together 
and  slipped  his  arm  through,  so  that  the  slightest 
pull  on  the  part  of  the  horse  would  arouse  him. 
Then  he  dropped  down  on  the  ground,  and  pillowing 
his  face  on  his  arms,  was  asleep  in  a  moment. 

Trained  to  stand  when  the  reins  were  dragging, 
Freckles  was  like  a  statue.  For  a  while  he  stood 
with  head  up  and  eyes  roaming  over  the  prairie,  but 
he  never  stirred.  Then  the  heat  seemed  to  affect 
him  also;  his  head  dropped  slowly;  his  eyes  closed, 
and  presently  he  too  was  dozing. 

Half  an  hour  passed  and  the  noonday  stillness 
was  unbroken.  Then  all  at  once  Freckles  raised 
his  head  and  pricked  up  his  ears.  A  faint  rustling 
came  from  the  bushes  back  of  Donald,  and  the  horse 
looked  curiously  in  that  direction.  Another  min- 
ute went  by  and  then  the  leaves  were  softly  parted 
and  a  face  looked  out.  A  dark,  swarthy  face  it  was ; 
unkempt ;  unshaven ;  and  across  the  left  cheek  ran  a 
jagged,  livid  scar.  As  the  eyes  fell  upon  the  sleep- 
ing boy,  a  tigerish  gleam  leaped  into  them :  a  slow, 
cruel  smile  curved  the  edges  of  the  thin  lips  and  a 


234  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

moment  later  the  man  slipped  out  of  the  bushes  and 
crouched  on  the  ground.  His  right  arm  was  but  a 
stump,  swathed  in  dirty,  bloody  bandages.  In  his 
left  hand  a  knife,  long,  pointed,  and  keen  of  edge 
glittered  in  the  sun. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 
FRECKLES  INTERVENES 

FOR  an  instant  he  hesitated,  balancing  the  knife 
in  his  hand  and  darting  quick  glances  over 
the  prairie.  No  one  was  in  sight.  Alkali,  half  a 
mile  away,  was  hidden  by  the  feeding  cattle ;  the 
wagon  lay  behind  a  knoll  to  the  southward. 

The  man's  fingers  gripped  the  handle  convul- 
sively; a  lithe,  noiseless  spring,  and  he  stood  over 
the  unconscious  boy  with  the  blade  poised  in  mid- 
air. Then  the  unexpected  happened. 

Like  a  flash  Freckles  reared  to  his  full  height ;  his 
fore  feet  shot  out  straight  before  him,  rigid  as  bars 
of  iron.  A  dull,  sickening  thud;  the  flash  of  the 
falling  knife;  and  with  a  wild  scream  of  agony,  that 
which  was  once  a  man  tottered  and  fell  back  into 
the  bushes. 

Donald  leaped  to  his  feet  dazed  and  bewildered, 

the  echoes  of  that  horrid  shriek  ringing  in  his  ears. 

235 


236  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

,        » 

At  first  he  could  not  understand  what  had  hap- 
pened. A  glance  at  the  cattle  showed  that  they  were 
all  right.  Freckles  stood  perfectly  still;  only  his  nos- 
trils quivered  a  little.  Then,  happening  to  look 
down  at  the  horse's  hoofs,  he  noticed  for  the  first 
time  the  splotches  of  fresh  blood  on  them.  An  in- 
stant later  the  knife  caught  his  eye,  and,  whirling 
around,  he  saw  and  understood. 

Rapidly  as  this  had  taken  place,  the  men  were 
already  over  the  knoll  and  coming  toward  him  at  a 
run.  Shorty  was  the  first  to  reach  the  spot. 

"  What  in  blazes  was  that My  Gawd !  "  he 

broke  off,  as  he  saw  the  body.  "  Who  done  it  ?  " 

Donald  pointed  silently  to  Freckles.  He  could 
not  have  said  a  word  to  save  his  life.  For  an  instant 
the  suddenness  of  it  all,  and  the  realization  of  what 
he  had  so  narrowly  escaped,  completely  unmanned 
him. 

"  It's  th'  Greaser,"  Shorty  exclaimed,  bending 
over  the  body.  "  Leastwise,  I  reckon  it  must  be, 
'cause  uh  his  arm.  There  ain't  much  left  of  his 
face.  Was  yuh  asleep,  Pete  ?  " 

With  an  effort  Donald  recovered  himself. 


Freckles  Intervenes  237 

"  Yes :  I  was  lying  there  on  my  face,  with  my  arm 
through  the  bridle.  There  was  a  yank  on  the  reins 
that  nearly  pulled  my  wrist  off,  and  that  awful 
( scream.  When  I  jumped  up  my  back  was  toward 
it,  and  for  a  minute  I  couldn't  think  what  had  hap- 
pened. Then  I  turned  around." 

He  was  leaning  against  Freckles,  and  as  he  spoke 
his  arm  slid  around  the  horse's  neck  and  he  pressed 
his  face  against  the  velvety  nose. 

"Ain't  it  wonderful  fur  him  t'  have  th'  sense  t' 
do  it  ? "  Shorty  said,  eyeing  Freckles  admiringly. 
"  Yuh've  sure  got  a  good  thing  in  that  horse,  Pete. 
Well,  boys,"  he  went  on,  more  briskly.  "  We  might 
as  well  get  busy.  No  use  in  th'  buzzards  gettin'  him, 
if  he  is  a  Greaser." 

They  brought  picks  and  shovels  from  the  wagon, 
and  in  an  hour  not  a  sign  of  the  tragedy  remained, 
save  a  few  dark  spots  on  the  sand. 

As  for  Donald,  he  registered  a  vow,  which, 
though  silent,  was  none  the  less  sincere,  that  as  long 
as  they  lived,  he  would  never  be  separated  from  the 
horse  who  had  saved  his  life. 

Two  days  later  they  crossed  the  northern  boun- 


238  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

dary  of  South  Ranch,  where  they  were  met  by  an 
outfit  from  the  headquarters  at  Bovina.  The  cattle 
were  counted  and  turned  over  to  them,  and  after 
exchanging  various  news  items  and  bits  of  interest- 
ing information,  Shorty  gathered  his  men  together 
and  they  started  back. 

Forty-eight  hours  later  they  rode  into  Madlock, 
where  they  found  that  the  dipping  pens  were  in 
good  shape,  and  that  Bob  was  awaiting  their  re- 
turn with  his  customary  impatience,  which  was 
greatly  increased  by  the  fact  that  they  arrived  too 
late  to  begin  work  that  day. 

Dipping  was  one  of  the  features  of  ranch  life  of 
which  Donald  had  never  heard  until  he  came  to 
Texas.  It  was  done  as  a  preventive  and  cure  for 
an  infectious  skin  disease,  from  which  the  cattle 
suffered  severely.  Each  head  on  the  ranch  had  to 
be  dipped  at  least  once  a  year,  and  there  were  dip- 
ping vats  at  several  of  the  camps  for  that  purpose. 
The  one  at  Madlock  was  a  swimming  vat,  as  dis- 
tinguished from  the  variety  in  which  the  cattle  were 
lowered  in  a  cage  into  the  solution.  It  consisted  of 
a  sheet-iron  tank  about  thirty  feet  long,  six  feet 


Freckles  Intervenes  239 

wide,  and  some  five  feet  deep.  Dividing  it  at  the 
middle  was  a  gate  which  could  be  lowered  to  pre- 
vent the  animals  from  getting  out  before  they  had 
been  well  immersed.  The  entrance  to  the  vat  was 
a  long,  narrow  runway  leading  from  the  crowding 
pen,  and  the  tank  at  that  end  dropped  sharply  to  its 
full  depth.  The  cattle  were  driven  down  this  in- 
cline to  the  tank,  which  was  filled  with  a  mixture 
of  lye,  carbolic,  sulphur,  and  several  other  ingre- 
dients, and  when  the  animals  had  been  well  sat- 
urated the  central  gate  was  raised  and  they 
scrambled  up  an  easy  incline  into  the  draining  pen, 
and  thence  to  one  of  the  big  corrals. 

The  work  was  naturally  more  than  ordinarily 
nasty;  the  men  stationed  around  the  vat  were  soon 
covered  from  head  to  foot  with  the  solution,  which 
spoiled  everything  it  came  in  contact  with,  and  was 
extremely  painful  when  splashed  into  the  eyes. 
Consequently,  it  was  not  popular;  but  it  had  to  be 
done,  and  it  was  their  habit  to  get  through  with  the 
unpleasant  duty  as  rapidly  as  possible.  Besides, 
even  Donald,  new  as  he  was  to  the  business,  could 
see  infinite  possibilities  of  enlivening  the  routine. 


240  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

In  the  morning  about  fifteen  hundred  cattle  of  all 
ages  and  conditions  were  rounded  up.  They  drove 
as  many  as  they  could  into  the  big  corral,  and  the 
others  were  left  to  await  their  turn  outside,  guarded 
by  two  men.  At  one  end  of  the  corral  was  fenced 
off  an  inclosure  some  forty  feet  square,  known 
as  the  crowding  pen.  This  was  jammed  full  of 
cattle,  which  were  then  sent  down  the  runway  to 
the  tank  as  they  were  needed. 

Alkali,  Bronco,  Donald,  and  Claude  were  detailed 
to  the  crowding  pen,  and  as  they  took  their  prodding 
sticks  and  went  in,  the  latter  showed  a  decided  incli- 
nation to  hug  the  fence,  and  seemed  much  averse  to 
trusting  himself  among  the  cattle.  However,  a 
little  observation  showed  that  the  others  came  to  no 
harm,  and  he  presently  ventured  forth  and  was  soon 
engaged  in  prodding  the  animals  down  the  runway 
and  yelling  as  loud  as  the  rest. 

Feeling  sure  that  Alkali  would  soon  be  up  to 
some  joke  or  other,  Donald  kept  his  eyes  open,  and 
in  a  short  time  his  expectations  were  realized. 

Claude  carefully  avoided  the  steers,  but  was  very 
courageous  with  the  calves,  poking  them  unmerci- 


Freckles  Intervenes  241 

fully  with  his  pole,  and  often  following  them  into 
the  runway  to  get  a  last  jab.  On  one  of  these  oc- 
casions Alkali  waited  until  he  was  well  into  it  and 
then  quickly,  and  with  much  dexterity,  manoeuvered 
a  big  steer  into  the  opening,  and  with  several  sharp 
prods  from  his  pole,  sent  him  down  the  narrow  in- 
cline, bellowing  with  rage.  When  Claude  turned 
and  saw  him  close  at  his  heels,  he  let  out  a  yell  of 
surprise  and  fright,  and  fled  down  the  runway. 
Half  a  dozen  jumps  took  him  to  the  edge,  with  the 
steer  thundering  behind  at  full  speed;  an  instant's 
hesitation  on  the  brink,  and  a  moment  later  he  was 
floundering  up  to  his  chin  in  the  filthy  mess,  sput- 
tering and  swearing.  Luckily,  he  had  the  sense  to 
scramble  over  to  one  side,  for  a  few  seconds  later 
the  steer  followed,  with  a  tremendous  splash,  which 
completed  Claude's  ducking,  besides  thoroughly 
wetting  the  two  men  who  operated  the  gate.  Work 
was  momentarily  suspended  to  watch  Claude's 
struggles;  and  when  he  finally  climbed  up  the  fence 
at  the  side  of  the  tank,  looking  like  a  drowned 
rat,  facetious  comments  were  freely  made  by  all 
hands. 


242  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

Swearing  volubly  arid  uttering  all  kinds  of  threats 
against  the  perpetrators  of  such  an  outrage,  Claude 
made  his  way  out  of  the  corral  and  disappeared  in 
the  direction  of  the  wagon.  When  he  reappeared, 
nearly  an  hour  later,  he  had  made  himself  perfectly 
secure  from  further  molestation. 

With  remarkable  forethought,  he  had  arrayed 
himself  in  garments  abstracted  from  the  kit  of 
nearly  every  man  in  camp.  He  had  on  one  man's 
boots ;  another's  chaps ;  the  hat  belonging  to  a  third, 
and  so  on;  and  as  every  one  always  wore  the  oldest 
duds  he  could  get  hold  of  while  dipping,  he  could 
not  have  chosen  a  better  method  of  protecting  him- 
self. For  the  remainder  of  the  day  he  was  handled 
with  great  care,  like  something  very  precious  and 
fragile :  they  wouldn't  let  him  go  near  the  vat,  and 
even  protected  him  from  any  rude  contact  with  the 
cattle;  and  many  were  the  threats  of  what  would 
happen  if  he  damaged  any  of  the  clothes  fie  had  on. 
It  was  the  first  time  Claude  had  ever  gotten  back 
at  them,  and  even  Alkali  admitted  that  there  might 
be  hope  for  him  yet. 
When  ajl  the  cattle  in  the  corral  ha4  been  dipped 


A  MOMENT  LATER  HE  WAS  FLOUNDERING  UP  TO  HIS  CHIN. 


Freckles  Intervenes  243 

the  others  were  driven  in  and  the  operation  re- 
peated. Then  the  entire  herd  were  taken  some  ten 
miles  to  the  northward  before  letting  them  go,  and 
another  lot  rounded  up. 

The  work  continued  for  some  two  weeks,  and 
long  before  the  end  of  it  the  men  were  heartily  sick 
of  the  whole  business.  They  consequently  hailed 
with  joy  the  news  that  a  dance  was  to  be  held  at 
Rita  Blanca  schoolhouse,  and  every  one  began  to 
furbish  up  his  belongings,  to  make  as  good  a  show- 
ing as  possible.  The  schoolhouse  was  a  low  frame 
building  standing  at  one  end  of  a  group  of  three  or 
four  squatters'  huts,  about  five  miles  southeast  of 
the  ranch  house.  Social  gatherings  of  all  kinds  were 
held  there  because  the  location  was  central  and  con- 
venient, and  the  planed  floor  was  very  good  for 
dancing.  The  dances,  which  were  gotten  up  every 
once  in  a  while,  were  attended  by  all  the  cowboys 
within  a  radius  of  twenty  miles,  and  by  many  of 
the  daughters  of  the  squatters,  who  were  dotted  all 
over  the  ranch ;  as  well  as  any  other  girls  who  hap- 
pened to  be  in  the  neighborhood  and  cared  to 
go.  Bronco  said  they  always  had  a  good  time,  so 


244  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

Donald  looked  forward  with  much  pleasure  to  the 
event. 

On  the  afternoon  of  that  day  Bob  was  away  and, 
consequently,  the  men  knocked  off  work  rather  early 
and  began  to  array  themselves  in  their  best.  Those 
who  had  store  clothes  put  them  on,  and  those  who 
had  not  made  the  best  of  their  well-worn  chaps  and 
ordinary  things,  brushed  and  cleaned  up  for  the 
occasion,  adorning  themselves  with  the  gaudiest 
handkerchiefs  they  possessed. 

Personally  Donald  preferred  the  looks  of  the  lat- 
ter, for  some  of  the  men  in  store  clothes  were  any- 
thing but  picturesque,  since  many  of  the  suits  were 
cut  in  styles  which  might  have  been  prevalent  in  the 
dark  ages;  and  one  and  all  fitted  abominably, 
Claude  appeared  in  the  rig  he  wore  when  Donald 
first  saw  him,  and  created  considerable  comment. 

They  saddled  up  about  five  and  started  off  for  the 
schoolhouse,  which  they  reached  before  nine  o'clock, 
and  leaving  their  horses  in  the  corral,  they  trooped 
inside  in  a  body. 

As  they  went  in  the  door  Bronco  uttered  a  low 
exclamation. 


Freckles  Intervenes  245 

"  Whew !  "  he  murmured  to  Donald.  "  There's 
them  Ackerman  boys.  Now  yuh  want  t'  look  out 
for  squalls." 

"Why,  what's  the  matter  with  them?"  Donald 
asked. 

"  Oh,  they're  dead  sore  on  us  X  L  fellows,  most 
'specially  Ed.  They  got  a  place  down  th'  creek  a 
bit  fenced  in  and  grow  alfalfa  an'  such  stuff  there. 
They're  all  th'  time  fightin'  'cause  they  say  we  pull 
down  th'  fences  an'  let  th'  cattle  in.  They're  th' 
kind  that  'ud  a  little  bit  rather  shoot  yuh  in  th'  back 
than  not,  if  they  thought  they  wouldn't  get  caught. 
See  yuhr  friends,  Ed  ?  " 

"  I  see  'em,"  Ed  said  carelessly.  "  Reckon  they 
won't  try  any  tricks  t'night,  though.  We're  too 
many  for  'em." 

The  two  men  in  question,  sandy-haired  and  hard- 
featured  specimens,  did  not  seem  to  view  the  advent 
of  the  outfit  with  pleasure,  but  aside  from  an  unbe- 
coming scowl  which  they  assumed,  and  an  elaborate 
affectation  of  not  seeing  the  X  L  fellows,  they  did 
nothing. 

There  were  eight  or  ten  girls  in  the  room,  all  of 


246  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

them  daughters  of  Mexican  squatters.  Many  of 
them  were  pretty,  and  those  who  were  not  didn't 
seem  to  know  it;  while  they  were  all  graceful  and 
danced  very  well  to  the  music  of  a  couple  of  man- 
dolins and  a  guitar.  When  they  got  a  chance  the 
thirty-odd  men  danced  with  them,  and  at  other  times 
with  each  other,  which  they  seemed  to  enjoy  almost 
as  much ;  and  Donald  was  very  much  amused  at  the 
funny  pictures  some  of  them  made  as  they  went 
hopping  around  the  room,  clutching  each  other 
about  the  waist,  and  apparently  trying  to  see  which 
could  raise  their  feet  the  highest  and  come  down 
with  the  loudest  stamp.  Claude  looked  particularly 
grotesque  as  he  flew  around  the  room  in  the  grasp 
of  a  huge,  rawboned  fellow  from  Channing,  whose 
hand,  looking  about  the  size  of  a  large  ham,  clutched 
his  partner's  coat  in  a  bunch  up  around  his  shoul- 
ders, his  sole  purpose  in  life  seeming  to  be  to  out- 
distance every  one  on  the  floor,  and  incidentally  to 
maim  as  many  as  he  could  by  stamping  on  their 
feet. 

The  evening  wore  away  very  pleasantly.    Donald 
danced  several  times,  but  found  it  much  more  enter- 


Freckles  Intervenes  247 

taining  to  look  on,  and  a  little  after  twelve  he  took 
up  his  stand  to  one  side  of  the  door,  where  there 
was  a  shallow  recess,  like  an  open  closet,  to  hang 
coats  and  hats  in. 

He  had  not  been  there  long  when  some  one  just 
outside  shouted  for  Ed  Foster.  The  latter  got  up, 
and  strolling  leisurely  across  the  room,  disappeared. 
A  moment  later  there  was  a  dull  thud,  followed  by 
the  sound  of  some  one  falling,  and  as  Donald 
reached  the  door  he  stumbled  over  Ed's  body,  which 
lay  across  the  threshold,  and  saw  two  figures  a  short 
way  off  running  toward  the  corral. 

He  was  furious,  and  without  stopping  to  think, 
he  drew  his  six-shooter  and  sent  a  couple  of  shots 
after  the  flying  men.  They  had  no  effect  on  them, 
but  in  half  a  minute  the  men  came  pouring  out  of 
the  schoolhouse  like  a  swarm  of  angry  bees,  and  a 
perfect  fusilade  commenced. 

This  was  answered  by  a  smart  volley  from  the 
corral,  which  smashed  two  of  the  windows  and 
brought  out  a  chorus  of  shrieks  from  the  timid 
females  within.  The  more  experienced  hastily  put 
out  the  lights,  and  disposing  themselves  in  sheltered 


248  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

corners,  awaited  results  in  more  or  less  discomfort, 
and  with  what  patience  they  possessed. 

Very  soon  the  shots  were  coming  thick  and  fast, 
and  as  a  bullet  whizzed  uncomfortably  close  to  Don- 
ald's face,  he  decided  that  it  was  no  place  for  him. 
Looking  hastily  around,  he  spied  the  large,  heavy 
woodbox  just  beside  the  door,  and  making  a  rush 
for  it,  he  plunged  in  head  first,  and  landed  with  full 
force  directly  on  top  of  some  one  else,  who  had  ap- 
parently also  liked  its  looks. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 
BRANDING 

HRISTMAS !  "  exclaimed  Bronco's  voice. 
"  why  th'  deuce  don't  you  look  where 
you're  goin'?  You  knocked  th'  breath  clean  out 
uh  me.  Who  are  you,  anyway  ?  " 

"  It's  me,"  Donald  explained.  "  I  didn't  think 
there  was  anybody  here.  Sorry  I  jumped  on  you." 

"  Oh,  if  it's  you,  it's  all  right,"  Bronco  returned. 
"  Thought  maybe  it  was  Chico,  an'  I  don't  want 
him  in  here.  You  will,  you  son  of  a  gun !  "  he  broke 
off  as  a  bullet  buried  itself  in  the  thick  planking  of 
the  box.  "  Take  that !  "  and  he  fired  two  or  three 
shots  in  the  direction  from  which  it  had  come  and 
then  paused  to  slip  in  some  more  shells. 

"  It's  those  Ackerman  fellows,  I  suppose,"  Don- 
ald remarked,  after  another  exchange  of  shots. 

"  Sure  thing.  I  knew  they'd  be  up  t'  some  devil- 
try. Say,  Pete;  what  come  uh  Ed,  anyway?  He 

ain't  lyin'  there  yet,  is  he  ?  " 

249 


250  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

Donald  peered  cautiously  over  his  end  of  the  box, 
which  was  within  a  few  feet  of  the  doorway,  but 
could  see  nothing. 

"No;  he's  gone." 

"  Reckon  th'  girls  took  him  in,"  Bronco  com- 
mented. "  Things  got  warm  s'  quick  I  clean  forgot 
about  him." 

For  several  hours  the  shots  continued,  growing 
gradually  more  scattered  and  desultory.  Then  the 
voice  of  Alkali  came  out  of  the  darkness  behind 
them. 

"  Say,  fellers,"  he  drawled,  "  ease  up  a  bit.  I 
think  them  cusses  is  gone." 

Fifteen  minutes  passed  without  a  shot.  Then  the 
men  began  to  appear  from  all  sides  and  in  a  body 
they  trooped  out  to  the  corral.  Here  they  found 
no  one.  The  Ackerman  boys  had  evidently  slipped 
off  in  the  darkness,  for  their  horses  were  gone.  Just 
how  long  the  outfit  had  been  shooting  at  each  other 
it  would  be  hard  to  say,  but  they  were  certainly  a 
mad  lot  as  they  went  back  to  the  house,  and  the  two 
brothers  would  not  have  fared  well  had  they  been 
able  to  lay  their  hands  on  them. 


Branding  251 

A  couple  of  lamps  were  lit  and  the  girls  appeared 
from  various  corners,  looking  disheveled  and  alto- 
gether cross  at  the  unexpected  ending  to  the  fes- 
tivities. 

As  Bronco  had  surmised,  Ed  had  been  dragged 
inside  and  was  all  right  except  for  a  lump  the  size 
of  a  hen's  egg  on  his  forehead  and  a  splitting  head- 
ache. He  had  been  struck  with  the  butt  of  a  Colt 
the  moment  he  went  out  of  the  door,  and  it  had 
been  done  so  quickly  that  there  was  no  time  to  see 
who  it  was.  The  men  had  no  doubt  of  its  being  the 
Ackerman  boys,  however,  for  when  they  counted 
noses  they  were  the  only  ones  missing — except 
Claude. 

"  Where's  Chico,  I  wonder,"  Bronco  said. 

"  I  expect  he's  hid  hisself  so  well  he  can't  find  his 
way  back,"  Alkali  remarked. 

It  was  daylight,  however,  and  they  were  just  on 
the  point  of  leaving,  before  the  mystery  was  solved. 
Then,  as  they  left  the  house  laughing  and  talking, 
one  of  the  men  stopped  suddenly. 

"  What's  that  noise  ?  "  he  said. 

In  the  silence  which   followed  they  heard  the 


252  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

muffled  sound  of  a  voice,  accompanied  by  a  hollow 
knocking,  from  around  the  corner. 

An  investigation  showed  that  it  came  from  the 
rain-barrel,  which  was  partly  sunk  into  the  ground 
under  the  eaves,  and  from  which  protruded  a  pair 
of  extremely  large  feet,  incased  in  patent  leather 
ties. 

"Blamed  if  it  ain't  Chico!"  exclaimed  Alkali. 
"  Take  a  holt,  Bill,  an'  pull  him  out." 

When  he  appeared  he  was  a  sorry  sight.  Fortu- 
nately, there  was  no  water  in  the  barrel,  but  there 
was  a  deposit  of  some  two  inches  of  slime  on  the 
bottom,  and  Claude  had  brought  most  of  this  away 
on  his  person.  His  temper  was  not  improved  by 
the  enforced  captivity. 

"  I  should  think  yuh  fellows  might  have  got  me 
out  before,"  he  said  peevishly.  "  I've  been  poundin' 
an'  yellin'  fur  hours." 

"  It's  too  bad,  Chico,"  Alkali  said  soothingly.  "  We 
never  heard  a  thing.  What  d'yuh  get  in  there  fur  ?  " 

"  T'  see  if  I  couldn't  get  a  drink,  uh  course," 
Claude  snapped  sarcastically.  "  D'yuh  think  I 
wanted  t'  stand  up  an*  git  shot  ?  " 


Branding  253 

The  girls  having  been  taken  home,  the  men  scat- 
tered for  their  respective  outfits,  and  the  X  L  crowd 
reached  Madlock  about  seven  o'clock.  They  took 
things  very  easy  all  that  day,  and  so  managed  it 
that  one  bunch  of  cattle  lasted  until  four  o'clock, 
when  it  was  too  late  to  round  up  any  more.  Then 
they  had  supper  and  turned  in  directly  afterward. 

Bob  returned  the  following  morning,  and  for  the 
next  three  days  the  men  were  pushed  to  the  utmost 
in  order  that  the  dipping  might  be  finished  and  the 
branding  begun  as  speedily  as  possible.  On  the 
morning  of  the  third  day  there  were  still  over  a 
thousand  head  to  be  dipped,  but  Bob  decided  that 
they  must  be  done  that  day,  and  in  order  to  make 
things  doubly  sure  he  despatched  the  chuck  wagon 
directly  after  breakfast  to  one  of  the  branding  pens, 
some  ten  miles  this  side  of  Rita  Blanca,  so  that  the 
men  would  simply  have  to  finish  up  in  order  to  get 
supper  and  a  bed  that  night.  They  went  to  work 
with  a  will  and  it  is  quite  safe  to  say  that  the  pas- 
sage of  those  cattle  through  the  dipping  vat  was  the 
most  rapid  thing  on  record,  though  it  is  doubtful 
whether  the  majority  of  them  got  the  thorough  im- 


254  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

mersion  they  were  supposed  to  have.  In  fact  the  boys 
rather  overdid  it,  for  the  last  steer  went  through  at 
four  o'clock,  and  ten  minutes  later  they  were  in  the 
saddle  and  headed  south,  and  extremely  weary  but 
satisfied  crowd  at  having  seen  the  last  of  a  disagree- 
able duty  for  another  year. 

Bob  had  preceded  them  by  a  few  hours,  and  when 
they  rode  into  camp  shortly  before  six,  he  expressed 
his  disbelief  at  their  having  accomplished  what  they 
said  they  had  in  forcible  terms. 

Bed  certainly  felt  good  to  them  that  night,  and 
they  wasted  little  time  in  getting  there,  for  they 
knew  what  was  coming  in  the  morning. 

It  was  fortunate  that  they  could  not  work  in  the 
dark.  Bob  would  have  had  no  hesitation  in  getting 
them  up  at  two  o'clock  if  it  would  have  been  any 
use;  and  as  it  was  they  had  finished  breakfast  by 
half  past  four,  and  started  out  to  hold  a  round-up. 

Some  eight  hundred  head  were  gathered  in,  and 
from  these  they  proceeded  at  once  to  cut  out  the 
cows  and  calves.  Donald  was  one  of  those  detailed 
to  hold  the  cuts,  and  he  found  it  no  easy  matter.  In 
a  very  few  minutes  he  had  made  up  his  mind  that 


Branding  255 

calves  were  about  the  most  irritating  and  irrespon- 
sible creatures  on  the  face  of  the  globe.  They  didn't 
seem  to  have  a  single  atom  of  sense.  The  minute 
they  became  separated  from  their  mothers  they 
would  stand  still  and  set  up  a  bawl  or  run  aimlessly 
around,  bumping  into  anything  which  came  in  the 
way,  and  falling  over  the  slightest  obstacle  in  the 
most  clumsy  manner  possible.  It  was  simply  impos- 
sible to  drive  them,  for  they  were  as  likely  to  run 
under  the  horse  as  anywhere  else,  and  it  was  for 
that  reason  alone  that  the  cows  were  cut  out.  With 
them  for  the  calves  to  tag  around  after,  it  was  pos- 
sible to  maintain  some  sort  of  order. 

When  the  herd  had  been  sorted  over,  the  rest  of 
the  cattle  were  run  off,  and  as  many  cows  and  calves 
as  possible  were  driven  into  the  branding  pen,  while 
the  rest  were  day-herded  outside. 

In  one  corner  of  the  pen  a  roaring  fire  had  been 
started,  and  several  sets  of  branding  irons  put  on 
to  heat.  There  was  an  iron  for  each  letter,  and  one 
man  to  operate  each  iron,  so  that  no  time  would  be 
lost  in  changing  them.  In  addition  to  these,  there 
was  a  roper  and  two  sets  of  spreaders;  a  term  ap- 


256  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

plied  to  the  men  who  held  the  calf  down  while  the 
branding  was  being  done. 

Donald  was  one  of  the  latter,  with  Bronco  as  a 
side  partner,  and  Claude  and  a  cow-puncher  named 
Ben  made  up  the  other  set.  Shorty  was  roper,  while 
Alkali,  Kentucky  Bill,  and  Ed  Foster  were  at  the 
fire. 

As  soon  as  the  gate  was  closed  Shorty  roped  a 
calf  around  the  hind  legs  and  dragged  him  to  one 
side  of  the  fire,  where  Bronco  seized  the  tail,  and 
with  a  deft  twist  threw  him  on  his  side.  Then  he 
pushed  the  under  hind  leg  forward  and  pulled  the 
other  out  straight,  while  Donald,  acting  under  in- 
structions, pulled  one  of  the  front  legs  out  straight 
with  an  upward  slant,  and  the  animal  was  perfectly 
helpless.  As  soon  as  this  condition  prevailed  Bronco 
yelled  for  hot  irons,  and  the  iron-men  performed 
their  part  of  the  work  to  the  accompaniment  of  vig- 
orous struggles  and  loud  and  prolonged  shrieks  of 
pain  and  fright;  but  as  a  calf  started  bawling  the 
moment  it  was  roped  and  kept  it  up  with  vigor  and 
persistency  till  it  was  released,  this  was  scarcely 
noticed.  The  last  figure  of  the  year  was  branded 


Branding  257 

on  the  shoulder,  and  X  L  on  the  sides,  and  as  soon 
as  the  calf  was  finished  another  was  waiting  to  be 
operated  on. 

Donald  found  the  work  extremely  tiring.  Some 
of  the  calves  were  yearlings,  with  a  surprising 
amount  of  agility  and  muscle,  and  it  was  frequently 
all  he  could  do  to  hold  them  down.  Before  he  had 
been  at  it  an  hour  the  muscles  of  his  arms  were 
strained  and  sore;  his  trousers  torn;  and  his  legs 
scratched  and  bruised  from  the  vigorous  kicks  in- 
flicted by  the  struggling  animals. 

The  pen  was  presently  a  scene  of  confusion  al- 
most equal  to  that  of  the  bronc  corral.  The  calves 
writhed  and  twisted  frantically  in  their  efforts  to 
get  away,  kicking  up  a  choking  cloud  of  dust,  which 
hung  low  over  everything ;  and  their  prolonged  and 
persistent  shrieks  smote  loudly  on  the  ear,  making 
a  perfect  Bedlam  of  the  place.  The  cows,  driven 
to  desperation  by  the  bawling  of  their  offspring,  ran 
as  close  to  the  fire  as  they  dared,  stumbling  into 
each  other,  and  sometimes  seriously  impeding  the 
work  of  the  roper:  the  sun  beat  down  upon  them 
with  pitiless  force;  the  heat  of  the  fire  scorched 


258  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

them,  and  in  a  very  short  time  they  were  drenched 
to  the  skin,  and  streams  of  sweat,  running  down 
their  faces,  made  little  ruts  in  the  dust  which  had 
settled  there. 

Taken  all  in  all,  it  was  about  the  hardest  work 
Donald  had  ever  done,  and  that  it  was  so  hard  was 
due  principally  to  the  fact  that  it  was  almost  con- 
tinuous. Shorty  gave  them  no  rest.  He  was  a  fine 
roper,  and  always  had  a  calf  ready  before  they  had 
finished  branding  the  one  before.  After  two  or 
three  hours,  however,  things  improved  in  that  re- 
spect. As  the  herd  dwindled  down  it  took  longer 
to  single  out  the  animals  which  had  not  been 
branded;  the  delays  became  more  frequent,  and 
sometimes  they  had  to  wait  five  or  ten  minutes  for 
a  calf.  Consequently,  they  presently  began  to  cast 
about  for  ways  of  enlivening  the  dull  routine.  A 
habit  of  the  calves  was  of  material  assistance  at 
this  point.  The  moment  they  were  released  they 
invariably  sprang  up  and  dashed  blindly  forward 
in  whatever  direction  they  were  headed,  and  a  little 
manceuvering  could  frequently  accomplish  a  great 
deal,  while  still  having  the  appearance  of  innocence. 


Branding  259 

"  Look  at  Chico,"  Alkali  remarked  significantly, 
as  they  were  about  to  release  a  particularly  vigorous 
specimen.  "  Don't  he  look  like  a  wishbone  ?  " 

Claude  stood  with  his  back  toward  them,  half 
bending  over,  with  his  legs  spread  apart  in  a  very 
tempting  arch,  and  Alkali's  hint  was  enough.  Don- 
ald pulled  the  calf's  head  over  a  bit  so  that  he  was 
pointed  the  right  way,  and  they  let  him  up. 

Like  a  streak  of  lightning  he  shot  forward  and 
struck  Claude  exactly  where  they  had  intended,  with 
such  force  that  he  was  carried  forward,  surprised 
and  gasping,  a  dozen  feet,  where  his  progress  sud- 
denly came  to  an  end  by  a  collision  with  one  of  the 
cows.  He  landed  on  the  ground,  and  before  he 
could  scramble  up  the  cow  had  walked  all  over  him, 
to  the  intense  delight  of  the  onlookers,  who,  con- 
vulsed with  laughter,  at  once  betrayed  a  keen  and 
concentrated  interest  in  something  which  was  taking 
place  at  the  other  end  of  the  corral. 

Claude  limped  back  casting  suspicious  glances  in 
their  direction,  and  uttering  maledictions  on  calves 
in  general  and  in  particular.  Of  course  his  own  had 
seized  the  opportunity  to  break  away  from  Ben  and 


260  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

rush  back  into  the  herd,  where  it  had  to  be  roped 
and  thrown  all  over  again. 

Encouraged  by  their  success,  Bronco  and  Donald 
presently  let  go  another  in  Claude's  direction.  This 
time  he  was  thrown  forward  on  top  of  the  calf  he 
was  holding  down,  with  the  result  that  there  was  an 
instant  whirlwind  of  kicking  legs,  and  in  the  melee 
Claude  naturally  got  the  worst  of  it.  After  that, 
however,  he  kept  an  eye  on  them,  and  they  had  to 
find  some  other  method  of  passing  the  time. 

They  knocked  off  at  twelve  o'clock  with  extreme 
promptness,  and  when  they  returned  after  dinner, 
the  branded  cattle  were  taken  out  of  the  pen  and 
driven  off  a  couple  of  miles  before  the  rest  of  the 
herd  was  brought  in.  Donald  and  Bronco  then  had 
a  spell  at  the  irons,  and  managed  to  tire  out  an  en- 
tirely different  set  of  muscles,  so  that,  when  they 
knocked  off  at  night,  they  were  quite  ready  for  bed. 

The  next  day  was  a  repetition  of  the  first,  and 
was  almost  as  trying.  Bronco  and  Donald  were 
flankers  again,  and  toward  the  end  of  the  afternoon, 
when  things  began  to  go  rather  slowly,  the  former 
suggested  that  they  ride  some  of  the  calves. 


Branding  261 

"  Why,  you  can't  get  on  them,  let  alone  stick 
there  any  time,"  Donald  said  in  surprise. 

"  That's  just  it,"  Bronco  returned.  "  It's  sport  t' 
see  how  long  you  can  stay  on:  they're  awful  slip- 
pery, an'  buck  like  a  bronc,  only  easier.  Uh  course, 
you  git  on  while  they're  down." 

When  he  found  that  it  wasn't  some  new  kind  of 
a  practical  joke,  Donald  was  quite  willing  to  try,  and 
the  next  yearling  they  branded  was  held  down  by 
Alkali  and  Bronco,  while  he  got  astride  of  it. 

When  they  let  the  calf  up  it  made  the  usual  blind 
rush  across  the  pen.  It  made  no  attempt  to  buck 
and  Donald  was  very  glad  it  didn't,  for  he  had  hard 
enough  work  to  stick  on  without  that.  The  back 
went  up  to  a  point,  making  it  almost  impossible  to 
sit  steadily,  and  with  the  smooth  sides  and  short 
hair,  there  was  nothing  at  all  to  hang  on  to.  He 
kept  slipping  first  to  one  side  and  then  to  another, 
and  then  the  calf  collided  with  a  cow,  and  he  went 
off. 

Bronco  tried  the  next  one,  which  started  in  with 
a  clumsy  sort  of  bucking,  that  was,  however,  very 
effective,  since  he  slid  off  in  less  than  a  minute. 


262  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

They  tried  to  persuade  Claude  to  take  part  in  the 
sport,  but  that  individual  firmly  refused  to  have  any- 
thing to  do  with  it. 

A  couple  of  days  later,  toward  the  middle  of  the 
morning,  Donald  was  branding.  He  was  hot  and 
tired,  and  wished  it  was  time  to  knock  off  for  dinner. 
There  was  a  moment's  wait  for  a  fresh  calf,  and  he 
straightened  up  to  rest  his  aching  back  and  drew  his 
sleeve  across  his  face,  which  was  dirty  as  any  coal- 
heaver's.  As  he  did  so  he  heard  a  strange  voice  di- 
rectly behind  him  say  in  clear,  well-bred  tones : 

"  How  much  that  fellow  looks  like  Don  Harring- 
ton." 


n 


CHAPTER  XXV 
HAZING  HEINY 
ONALD  HARRINGTON !  "  exclaimed  an- 


other voice.  "  How  absurd  you  are, 
Katherine.  You're  always  seeing  resemblances. 
Which  one  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  The  one  right  in  front  of  you,  with  that  stick  in 
his  hand." 

Donald  felt  himself  growing  red  to  the  ears  as 
he  pictured  the  critical  inspection  which  was  going 
on.  His  first  impulse  had  been  to  look  around  and 
see  who  were  the  owners  of  those  strangely  familiar 
voices;  his  next,  to  pull  his  hat  down  over  his  face 
and  turn  his  back  directly  toward  the  fence,  for  he 
hadn't  the  faintest  desire  to  have  any  one  he  had 
known  in  the  old  days  recognize  him  now.  He 
wasn't  in  the  least  ashamed  of  what  he  was  doing, 
but  he  knew  that  these  girls  wouldn't  understand 
and  would  be  very  likely  to  make  all  sorts  of  talk 

and  gossip  of  it  when  they  got  back  home.    He  was, 

263 


264  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

besides,  a  little  curious  to  hear  the  real,  unadulter- 
ated opinion  of  these  two,  whose  voices  he  was  try- 
ing hard  to  place  in  his  mind. 

Presently  the  inspection  was  finished. 

"  No;  that  isn't  Don,"  the  second  one  said  decid- 
edly. "  He  does  look  a  little  like  him,  I  admit ;  but 
can  you  imagine  Don  Harrington  looking  like  that 
and  doing  that  disgusting  work?" 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,"  the  other  returned  doubt- 
fully. "  Don's  peculiar :  he  might  do  anything." 

"Well,  I  don't  think  he'd  do  this;  it's  awful. 
Why,  that  fellow  doesn't  look  as  though  he'd  had 
a  bath  in  a  month." 

Donald  smiled  grimly.  He  was  certainly  getting 
the  real  facts  about  himself  straight  from  the  shoul- 
der, and  it  was  decidedly  interesting,  even  though 
it  did  make  him  rather  hot  under  the  collar. 

"  Whatever  in  the  world  has  become  of  him,  I 
wonder  ?  "  the  girl  continued.  "  Did  you  ever  hear, 
Katherine?" 

"  Nobody  knows :  that  is,  nobody  but  Sally,  and 
she  won't  tell  a  word.  They  do  say " 

But  at  that  moment  Ed  yelled  for  hot  irons  and 


Hazing  Heiny  265 

the  rest  of  the  conversation  was  lost.  In  a  couple 
of  minutes  Donald  leaned  over  to  thrust  an  iron  into 
the  fire  and  stole  a  glance  at  the  fence. 

It  was  as  he  supposed.  Katherine  Travers  and 
Elsie  Kingdon,  two  of  Sally's  friends,  and  inciden- 
tally his  own,  were  standing  there,  watching  the 
proceedings  with  languid  interest.  He  had  never 
cared  much  for  Elsie  anyway,  he  decided;  though 
Katherine  wasn't  so  bad.  Katherine,  it  may  be  re- 
marked, had  not  said  that  he  needed  a  bath. 

"  No,  I  don't  see  anything  interesting  about  it," 
Elsie  was  saying.  "  To  me  it's  disgusting.  I  can't 
understand  why  father  dragged  us  out  here.  We'd 
have  much  better  stayed  in  the  car." 

"  Oh,  goodness,  no !  "  Katherine  expostulated. 
"  This  is  heaps  better  than  that  tiresome  car.  Of 
course,  this  stamping  the  letters  on  is  a  little  unpleas- 
ant, but  everything  else  is  so  new  and  fascinating. 
Mercy!  look  at  that  poor  thing  loll  his  tongue  out. 
I  suppose  it's  very  painful." 

"  I  suppose  so ;  they  certainly  make  enough  noise 
about  it.  I  wonder  we  have  any  ear  drums  left. 
Come  on;  let's  see  if  we  can't  persuade  father  to 


266  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

go  back  to  that  house  for  luncheon.  I  couldn't  eat 
a  thing  in  this  hot,  dusty  place,  and  no  doubt  the 
dishes  are  as  dirty  as  the  men." 

They  tripped  off  toward  the  wagon,  where  two 
well-dressed  strangers  were  talking  to  Bob,  and,  as 
Donald  looked  after  them,  a  voice  murmured  in 
his  ear : 

"You  look  awful  dirty,  Pete.  Why  don't  you 
take  a  bath  once  a  month  ?  " 

Donald  wheeled  around  like  a  shot.  It  was 
Bronco,  who  stood  there  with  an  extremely  quizzical 
expression  on  his  face. 

"  T  me  it's  disgustin',"  he  mused  in  a  faraway 
tone.  "  I  don't  see  nothin'  interestin'  about  it.  Say ; 
she  struck  it  about  right,  didn't  she,  Pete  ?  "  he 
went  on  more  briskly.  "  There  ain't  a  darn  thing 
interestin'  about  brandin'  that  I  knows  of.  Gee! 
she's  the  genuine  article,  though.  Must  be  th' 
daughter  uh  old  man  Harden,  th'  president  uh  th' 
company." 

Donald  breathed  a  sigh  of  relief.  Evidently 
Bronco  had  missed  the  first  part  of  the  conversation 
in  which  his  name  was  mentioned. 


Hazing  Heiny  267 

"  Well,  th'  other  one  c'n  have  me ;  she's  a  peach," 
Bronco  continued.  "  No  highfalutin'  airs  about 
her." 

"  Hot  irons !  "  yelled  Alkali. 

"  Here,  Pete,"  Bronco  said,  as  he  snatched  up  his 
iron.  "  Git  busy  an'  stamp  a  few  letters  on  this  pore 
critter  with  his  tongue  lollin'  out.  Don't  hurt  him, 
now." 

Bronco's  imitation  was  simply  delicious.  Donald 
burst  out  laughing,  and  the  momentary  irritation 
he  had  felt  at  Elsie  Kingdon's  remarks  passed  away 
as  quickly  as  it  had  come. 

When  they  got  over  to  the  wagon  for  dinner  he 
was  relieved  to  find  that  the  strangers  had  gone 
back  to  the  ranch  house  with  Bob  an  hour  before, 
leaving  Heiny  in  a  state  of  sullen  indignation  at  the 
insult  to  his  ability  as  a  cook. 

The  resulting  meal  was  extremely  poor,  but  their 
unfavorable  comments  could  only  draw  forth  a  sin- 
gle remark  from  the  fat  Dutchman : 

"  Tage  id  or  leave  id :  id's  all  you  ged." 

Bob  being  away,  he  could  afford  to  be  independ- 
ent. 


268  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

"  Say,  fellows,"  Alkali  remarked,  as  they  strolled 
away  from  the  wagon.  "  That  Dutchman  needs  a 
layin'  out.  He's  gettin'  too  blamed  hefty.  What 
d'  yuh  say  t'  gittin'  a  steer  on  th'  peck  an'  runnin' 
him  in  t'  th'  wagon.  Maybe  we  c'n  catch  the  son  of 
a  gun  nappin'." 

The  idea  met  with  vociferous  approval,  and  was 
forthwith  put  into  instant  action.  Saddling  up,  Al- 
kali and  Kentucky  Bill  started  out  to  find  the  steer, 
while  the  rest  went  over  to  the  branding  pen,  as 
though  intent  only  upon  beginning  the  afternoon's 
work. 

To  get  a  steer  "  on  the  peck  "  was  not  difficult. 
Once  roped,  a  little  judicious  teasing  usually  worked 
him  up  into  such  a  state  of  anger  that  he  would 
charge  anything  he  saw  in  the  shape  of  a  man,  and 
the  watchers  in  the  branding  pen  waited  impa- 
tiently for  the  two  cow-punchers  to  accomplish  this 
result. 

Heiny  pottered  about  the  wagon,  slowly  washing 
the  dishes  and  muttering  crossly  to  himself.  It  was 
pleasant  to  observe  that  he  was  very  slow  about  it. 
If  he  got  things  cleaned  up  and  climbed  into  the 


Hazing  Heiny  269 

wagon  for  a  sleep — as  he  usually  did  in  the  after- 
noon— before  the  steer  appeared,  there  wouldn't  be 
any  fun  at  all  about  it.  To  obtain  the  full  flavor  of 
the  jest,  it  was  necessary  to  catch  him  unprepared  in 
the  open. 

Half  an  hour  passed,  and  then  a  single  figure 
came  in  sight  over  a  knoll  a  mile  away.  He  was 
closely  pursued  by  a  large  Hereford  steer,  from 
whose  horns  dangled  a  catch  rope,  and  the  boys 
watched  the  chase  with  breathless  interest. 

Presently  they  recognized  Alkali,  and  observed 
that,  as  he  neared  the  camp,  he  was  careful  to  keep 
the  wagon  between  himself  and  Heiny. 

Unconscious  of  impending  evil,  the  latter  con- 
tinued to  scour  his  pots  and  only  gave  a  slight  start 
when  Alkali  dashed  suddenly  around  the  end  of  the 
wagon,  and  circling  about  it,  made  off  again. 

"  Foolishness !  "  he  muttered. 

Then  he  looked  up  into  the  face  of  the  steer,  as  it 
paused  irresolute  some  six  feet  away. 

"  Gott  in  Himmel !  "  he  gasped,  dropping  the  pot. 

At  the  sight  of  this  easier  game,  the  animal  made 
a  lunge  in  his  direction,  and  uttering  a  shriek  of 


270  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

fright,  Heiny  dove  under  the  wagon  with  an  agility 
surprising  in  one  so  large. 

The  steer  stopped  short  and  pawed  the  ground 
in  a  puzzled  way.  Then  he  turned  and  ran  around 
to  the  other  side,  just  as  the  cook  was  crawling  out, 
bent  on  seeking  refuge  in  the  branding  pen. 

There  was  another  shriek,  and  the  delighted  ob- 
servers, clustered  behind  the  wire  fence,  heard  a  loud 
bump  as  his  head  struck  the  axle,  in  his  frantic  haste 
to  get  under  cover  again. 

"  Don't  hurry  so,  Heiny,"  Bronco  advised. 
"  You'll  get  heart  disease." 

"Talk  t'  him  nice,  in  Dutch,"  Ed  drawled. 
"  Mebbe  he  don't  savvy  English." 

Finding  that  he  had  disappeared  again,  the  steer 
promptly  returned  to  the  other  side;  but  Heiny  had 
grown  wise  and  did  not  show  himself.  He  crouched 
under  the  wagon,  watching  the  movements  of  his 
tormentor  through  the  spokes  of  the  wheels,  and 
breathing  horrible  threats  of  vengeance  upon  each 
and  every  member  of  the  outfit  in  fluent,  forceful, 
but  luckily,  unintelligible  Dutch. 

The  steer  soon  tired  of  running  from  one  side  of 


Hazing  Heiny  271 

the  wagon  to  the  other,  and  presently  he  began  to 
investigate  the  camp.  Before  long  he  had  upset  the 
bar  over  the  fire-hole  and  trodden  upon  two  skillets 
and  one  of  the  pots.  While  this  was  going  on  Heiny 
took  advantage  of  the  momentary  diversion,  and 
crawling  from  under  the  wagon,  fled  toward  the 
branding  pen.  He  had  not  taken  a  dozen  steps  be- 
fore the  steer  saw  him  and  started  in  hot  pursuit. 
The  race  was  short,  but  brisk,  and  was  accom- 
panied by  a  running  fire  of  comment  and  advice 
from  the  delighted  onlookers.  With  scarcely  a  hun- 
dred and  fifty  feet  to  go,  Heiny  might  have  made 
it  in  safety  had  he  headed  for  the  gate  at  the  far 
corner  of  the  pen.  Apparently,  he  decided  that  he 
would  save  time  by  climbing  over  the  fence  at  the 
side  nearest  him,  but  it  proved  his  undoing.  He 
reached  it  some  twelve  feet  ahead  of  the  steer; 
scrambled  heavily  up  three  of  the  wires  and  then, 
with  some  slight  assistance  from  behind,  he  sailed 
easily  over  the  top  and  landed  on  the  other  side  with 
a  heavy  thud;  the  seat  of  his  trousers  irreparably 
ruined.  He  lay  still  where  he  had  fallen,  and  fear- 
ing that  he  was  hurt,  the  men  hurried  over  to  him. 


272  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

They  found,  however,  that  it  was  only  lack  of  wind, 
and  when  he  recovered  his  breath  he  proceeded  to 
give  his  opinion  of  them  with  a  vigor  and  force 
which  put  all  previous  efforts  in  the  shade.  Not 
being  linguists,  it  was  all  Greek  to  them,  and  per- 
haps that  was  just  as  well  for  Heiny. 

"Ah,  shut  up,  Heiny,"  Alkali  said  presently. 
"  Yuh  ain't  hurt.  Go  an'  git  some  other  pants  on ; 
yuh  don't  look  decent  in  them." 

The  cook,  however,  refused  to  leave  the  corral, 
even  though  the  steer  had  calmed  down  and  wan- 
dered away ;  so  the  fellows  let  him  alone  and  hustled 
out  to  round  up  some  cattle.  They  had  used  up  a 
considerable  portion  of  the  afternoon,  and  it  be- 
hooved them  to  get  busy  if  they  didn't  want  a  laying 
out  from  Bob  when  he  returned. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 
SLICKERS   AND   SANDBURRS 

THREE  days  later  the  cattle  within  a  radius  of 
twelve  miles  had  been  pretty  well  gone  over 
and  it  was  a  waste  of  time  to  make  any  longer 
drives,  so  Bob  gave  orders  for  them  to  change  their 
headquarters  to  another  branding  pen  about  twenty- 
five  miles  to  the  westward. 

They  packed  up  with  alacrity,  and  in  a  short  time 
were  on  their  way.  Bob  accompanied  them,  so  there 
was  no  chance  for  any  unnecessary  dawdling,  and 
they  pushed  ahead  at  such  a  speed  that  in  three 
hours  they  were  near  enough  to  the  corral  to  start 
a  round-up.  By  noontime  the  pen  was  filled,  and 
they  were  hard  at  work  again. 

The  wagon  trundled  slowly  in  about  three  o'clock, 
for  Heiny  always  believed  in  taking  his  time,  espe- 
cially when  changing  camp.  If  he  could  keep  the 
men  waiting  two  or  three  hours  for  their  dinner,  or 

by  some  lucky  chance,  manage  to  delay  long  enough 

273 


274  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

for  them  to  lose  it  altogether,  he  was  really  quite 
good-tempered  for  a  couple  of  days. 

As  soon  as  he  appeared  they  all  made  a  dash  for 
him,  and  despite  his  objections,  laid  violent  hands 
on  the  chuck  box,  and  proceeded  to  consume  every- 
thing eatable  in  sight.  Donald  was  holding  the  herd 
and,  consequently,  could  not  get  away  until  he  was 
relieved.  He  had  small  hope  of  there  being  any- 
thing left  for  him,  and  was  agreeably  surprised 
when  he  rode  in  half  an  hour  after  the  rest,  to  find 
that  Bronco  had  saved  a  big  chunk  of  bread,  and 
that  there  was  still  a  little  coffee  in  the  bottom  of  the 
pot.  It  didn't  take  much  time  to  finish  this,  and 
when  he  was  through  he  swung  himself  into  the  sad- 
dle again,  and  sat  there  for  a  few  minutes  talking 
to  Bronco.  He  was  riding  Yaller  Legs,  one  of  his 
horses,  whose  main  fault  was  an  unconquerable 
aversion  to  a  slicker.  Almost  all  the  fellows  had  at 
least  one  animal  in  their  mount  whom  it  was  impos- 
sible to  ride  in  the  rain  because,  the  moment  they  felt 
the  skirts  of  the  slicker  dangling  around  them,  they 
would  buck  and  kick  and  behave  so  badly  that  there 
was  no  doing  anything  with  them.  In  the  course 


Slickers  and  Sandburrs  275 

of  time  they  got  so  that  the  mere  sight  of  one  spread 
out  on  the  ground  or  hanging  from  the  wagon,  was 
like  a  red  flag  to  a  bull. 

Donald  sat  with  his  back  to  the  wagon,  and  one 
leg  thrown  over  the  horn  of  the  saddle,  and  Alkali, 
seeing  a  good  chance  to  play  a  trick  on  him,  came 
stealthily  up  behind,  his  slicker  unrolled  in  one  hand, 
and  when  he  got  close  enough  to  the  unsuspecting 
Yaller  Legs,  he  threw  it  deftly  over  his  head. 

There  was  a  muffled  snort  of  surprise  and  rage; 
followed  by  a  furious  rush  forward,  which  threw 
Donald,  unprepared  as  he  was,  out  of  the  saddle  and 
into  the  arms  of  Bronco.  The  latter  staggered  un- 
der the  shock;  then  his  foot  slipped  and  they  came 
down  together,  to  the  great  amusement  of  Alkali. 

"  Yuh  ain't  got  a  very  good  seat,  Pete,"  he  said, 
grinning.  "  I  sh'd  think  yuh'd  bin  on  th'  range 
long  enough  t'  sit  a  horse  when  he  side-steps  a  little. 
Yuh  ought  t'  take  lessons  in  ridin'." 

The  two  boys  rose  to  their  feet  in  silence  and  be- 
gan to  brush  off  the  dust.  Meanwhile  the  horse  was 
working  himself  into  a  perfect  fury;  pawing  the 
ground  fiercely  and  trying  to  dislodge  the  slicker  by 


276  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

vigorous  shakings  of  the  head.  It  was  partly  but- 
toned, and  his  efforts  only  succeeded  in  making  it 
slip  down  further  still.'  Suddenly  there  was  an  om- 

>' 

inous  ripping  sound. 

"  You  ain't  s'  smart  as  you  think  you  are," 
Bronco  drawled.  "  Look  at  your  old  slicker 
now." 

By  dint  of  much  struggling,  Yaller  Legs  had 
worked  the  garment  down  so  that  he  could  step  on  it 
and  at  the  same  time  he  got  a  good  grip  on  the  upper 
part  with  his  teeth;  the  rest  was  easy.  In  five  sec- 
onds, despite  Alkali's  attempts  to  save  it,  the  slicker 
was  in  strips,  and  Yaller  Legs  was  restively  pawing 
the  ground  and  surveying  the  remains,  much  as  one 
who  had  rid  the  community  of  a  dangerous  pest. 

"  You  will  try  your  funny  tricks,"  Donald  said 
gleefully.  "  You're  out  just  about  four  dollars." 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha !  "  laughed  Claude,  who  had  been 
much  diverted  by  the  proceedings.  "  Ain't  it  funny 
t'  see  him  tear  it  up?  " 

"  What  th'  deuce  are  yuh  blatin'  about  ?  "  roared 
Alkali  fiercely,  as  he  wheeled  suddenly  around. 
"Who  give  yuh  any  license  t'  butt  in?" 


Slickers  and  Sandburrs  277 

Qaude's  jaws  came  together  with  a  snap  which 
cut  short  the  raucous  burst  of  merriment,  and  he 
quickly  retreated  a  few  steps,  eyeing  Alkali  nerv- 
ously. 

"  Humph,"  he  said  peevishly,  when  he  was  at  a 
safe  distance,  "  ain't  this  a  free  country,  I'd  like  t' 
know;  an'  can't  I  laugh  when  I  want  to?  " 

"  Well,  for  th'  Lord's  sake,  when  yuh  want  t' 
laugh  don't  blat  like  a  darned  sheep.  Yuh  make  me 
sick." 

Like  most  practical  jokers,  Alkali  took  things 
very  hard  when  they  didn't  come  his  way,  but  hav- 
ing got  some  of  the  spleen  off  his  system,  he  soon 
picked  up,  and  presently  recovered  his  usual  good 
temper,  though  it  was  a  long  time  before  he  had 
ceased  lamenting  the  loss  of  his  slicker. 

About  four  hundred  feet  to  the  north  of  the  camp 
was  a  large  buffalo  wallow,  the  bottom  of  which, 
pounded  down  by  years  of  constant  use,  was  almost 
as  hard  as  rock,  and  held  about  three  feet  of  water 
from  the  last  rain.  The  boys  had  had  their  eyes  on  it 
from  the  first  moment  of  their  arrival,  and  many 
were  the  longing  glances  cast  in  that  direction,  when 


278  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

the  sun  beat  down  with  more  than  ordinary  strength 
or  the  calves  kicked  up  an  extra  amount  of  dust. 

It  was,  consequently,  not  surprising  when  the 
energetic  Bob  left  them  for  a  few  hours  the  next 
day,  that  their  first  thought  was  of  it.  In  fact,  he 
was  scarcely  out  of  sight  before  they,  one  and  all, 
made  a  bee-line  in  that  direction,  and  in  five  minutes 
.  they  were  splashing  about  in  the  water  like  a  lot  of 
schoolboys. 

In  less  than  half  an  hour,  however,  they  had  had 
enough  of  it,  for  the  sun  was  extremely  hot  on  the 
unprotected  skin,  and  the  water  was  very  muddy. 
They  had  just  come  out  and  were  beginning  to  dress 
when  Heiny  appeared. 

"  How  is  id?  "  he  inquired,  with  unusual  affable- 
ness.  Evidently  the  memory  of  the  steer,  which  had 
rankled  for  some  days,  had  momentarily  disap- 
peared. 

"  Fine,"  Ed  assured  him.  "  Makes  yuh  feel  like 
a  new  man." 

"  I  think  I  will  dry  id,"  Heiny  remarked,  sitting 
down  ponderously  and  beginning  to  unlace  one  shoe. 
"  Maybe  id  will  gool  me  off." 


Slickers  and  Sandburrs  279 

This  determination  met  with  much  applause,  and 
the  virtues  of  the  pool  were  set  forth  in  glowing 
terms.  Alkali  alone  was  strangely  quiet.  He  seemed 
bent  solely  in  pulling  on  his  boots. 

After  some  delay  incident  to  disrobing,  Heiny 
arose,  clad  only  in  his  native  modesty,  and  walking 
heavily  down  the  little  slope,  dabbled  one  foot  in  the 
water. 

Apparently,  he  approved,  for  he  waded  cautiously 
in  until  the  water  reached  nearly  to  his  knees.  Then 
his  foot  slipped  and  he  sat  down  with  a  tremendous 
splash,  which  sent  a  miniature  tidal  wave  rushing 
up  the  bank. 

The  men  stood  in  a  bunch  watching  him,  and  com- 
menting upon  the  pleasing  spectacle. 

"  Say,  Heiny,"  Bronco  drawled.  "  I  never 
knowed  you  had  such  a  lovely  shape.  Reg'lar 
Venus,  ain't  he,  Ed?" 

"  Yeah.  He  don't  want  t'  let  none  uh  these  ar- 
tist fellows  see  him.  They'd  be  puttin'  him  in  a 
picture.'* 

Meanwhile,  shielded  from  observation  by  the 
screen  of  men,  Alkali  had  rapidly  and  circumspectly 


280  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

gathered  up  the  cook's  garments,  down  to  the  last 
shoe,  and  was  now  speeding  across  the  plain  to  the 
camp. 

Heiny  paid  no  attention  to  the  teasing.  He  sat 
luxuriating  in  the  pool,  with  the  water  up  to  his 
chin,  and  eyed  the  men  in  scornful  silence,  so  that 
they  soon  wearied  of  the  unprofitable  occupation 
and,  turning,  strolled  back  toward  the  camp. 

For  a  time  Heiny's  expression  remained  the  same. 
Plainly,  he  was  pondering  upon  the  inate  foolish- 
ness of  man.  Then,  all  at  once,  a  look  of  surprise 
flashed  across  his  face,  followed  instantly  by  one  of 
dismay  and  horror.  There  was  an  agitation  of  the 
water,  and  he  struggled  to  his  feet,  looking  like  some 
fat,  pink  porpoise,  and  hastily  waddled  to  the  shore. 
Then  an  enraged  bellow  rent  the  air. 

"  You  defils !  Where  iss  my  clothes  ?  Bring 
bag  my  clothes." 

There  was  no  response.  The  men  were  too  far 
away  to  distinguish  the  words,  and  would  not  have 
heeded  him  if  they  had.  One  or  two  heard  the 
sounds,  and,  looking  back,  waved  an  affectionate 
farewell. 


Slickers  and  Sandburrs  281 

Heiny  was  in  a  state  of  unsuppressed  fury.  He 
poured  forth  a  stream  of  strange  Dutch  oaths,  and 
shook  his  clenched  fist  wildly  at  the  departing 
crowd.  Then,  rather  exhausted  by  so  much  exer- 
tion, he  sank  down  on  the  sand  to  rest. 

With  a  surprised  yell  of  pain  he  sprang  up  again 
as  though  galvanized,  and  clapped  both  hands  to  the 
afflicted  part,  from  which  he  presently  drew  forth 
a  particularly  large  and  robust  sandburr. 

He  looked  at  it  closely :  his  eyes  intently  searched 
the  ground,  and  then,  as  he  looked  back  across  the 
flat,  sandy  expanse  toward  the  camp,  he  groaned. 

Now  it  may  seem  a  matter  of  small  moment  to 
traverse  some  four  hundred  feet  of  perfectly  good 
ground,  even  in  bare  feet;  and  so  it  would  have 
been  but  for  the  sandburr s.  These  tiny  objects,  with 
fheir  fine,  sharp,  yet  stiff  spines,  are  scattered  thickly 
over  the  plains  in  such  quantities  as  to  be  a  decided 
nuisance.  They  stick  tenaciously  to  anything  and 
everything,  and  are  as  difficult  to  pull  out  of  the 
skin  as  any  splinter.  Consequently,  it  is  not  to  be 
wondered  that  Heiny  viewed  the  prospect  before 
him  with  dismay. 


282  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

Knowing  the  boys  as  he  did,  however,  he  realized 
that  there  wasn't  the  least  chance  of  their  bringing 
back  his  clothes,  and  as  the  sun  was  beginning  to 
feel  unpleasantly  hot,  he  finally  set  out.  He  walked 
gingerly,  like  one  treading  on  eggs,  taking  short 
steps  and  setting  his  feet  down  with  care  and  pre- 
cision. For  the  first  dozen  steps  nothing  happened, 
and  he  was  beginning  to  think  that  it  was  a  false 
alarm,  and  that  the  burr  he  had  sat  on  was  buf  a 
stray  specimen.  The  next  moment  this  hope  was 
shattered,  and  he  spent  some  five  minutes  picking  the 
remains  of  two  good-sized  ones  out  of  his  foot. 

His  progress  into  camp  was  a  slow  and  painful 
one.  It  took  him  nearly  two  hours  to  cover  the 
short  distance,  and  when  he  finally  reached  it,  he 
was  mad  enough  to  commit  murder.  His  shoulders 
and  back  were  burned  a  beautiful  pink,  and  were 
already  beginning  to  smart,  while  his  feet  were  sim- 
ply riddled  with  spines  which  he  had  been  unable  to 
pull  out. 

He  found  his  clothes  piled  neatly  in  the  wagon, 
and  having  dressed,  he  put  in  the  rest  of  the  after- 
noon picking  the  bits  of  sandburr  out  of  his  feet  with 


Slickers  and  Sandburrs  283 

a  knife.  He  was  engaged  in  this  occupation  when 
Bob  returned  and  without  waiting  to  be  questioned, 
he  promptly  gave  the  latter  a  highly-colored  account 
of  the  affair,  which  resulted  in  a  severe  laying-out 
for  all  hands. 

At  first  Donald  had  been  rather  sorry  for  Heiny, 
but  this  action  somewhat  mitigated  his  sympathy. 
For  weeks  the  cook  refused  to  speak  to  a  single 
member  of  the  outfit,  and  whenever  he  possibly 
could,  he  got  even  by  giving  them  skimpy,  ill-cooked 
meals,  so  that  it  was  a  question  whether  he  didn't 
really  come  out  ahead  in  the  end,  after  all. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 
THE  STAMPEDE 

ONE  morning,  a  day  or  two  later,  Donald  was 
taking  his  usual  part  in  the  round-up.  He 
had  nearly  finished  his  section,  and  was  quite  near 
the  pen,  when  he  came  upon  a  cow  which  seemed 
possessed  of  more  than  the  ordinary  amount  of  stu- 
pidity. 

She  had  been  quietly  grazing  with  a  small  bunch 
which  he  picked  up  as  he  came  along,  but  in  less  than 
five  minutes  she  made  a  sudden  dash  to  one  side 
and  tried  to  escape.  He  at  once  headed  her  back 
again,  and  she  had  barely  reached  the  main  body, 
when  she  stopped  short  and  obstinately  refused  to 
budge.  The  rules  were  strict  against  using  a  rope, 
but  Donald  proceeded  at  once  to  break  them,  and 
gave  her  several  licks  with  the  end  of  his.  This  only 
resulted  in  another  break  for  the  open  prairie,  and 
another  chase  ensued.  Three  times  she  broke  away, 

until  Donald  was  mad  through  and  through.    The 

284 


The  Stampede  285 

delay  had  given  the  rest  of  the  cattle  a  chance  to 
stop  running  and  spread  out,  and  he  saw  that  in  a 
few  minutes  they  would  be  so  scattered  that  all  his 
work  would  have  to  be  done  over  again.  So  making 
sure  that  no  one  was  in  sight,  he  shook  out  his  rope 
and  whirling  it  around  his  head,  caught  the  cow 
neatly  by  the  hind  legs.  She  promptly  fell  in  a  heap 
and  stayed  there. 

It  took  him  ten  minutes,  and  nearly  wore  out 
his  rope  before  he  could  get  her  up,  and  when 
he  finally  did,  he  saw,  to  his  dismay,  that  she  had 
dislocated  one  of  her  hind  legs. 

This  was  unfortunate,  but  the  only  thing  to  do 
was  to  drive  her  along  with  the  rest;  so  he  urged 
her  forward,  and  gathering  up  the  remainder  of  the 
cattle,  he  reached  the  pen  half  an  hour  after  every 
one  else. 

Of  course  Bob  instantly  spotted  the  cow,  and 
gave  him  a  good  lecture  on  the  evils  of  indescrimi- 
nate  roping.  He  then  decided  to  repair  the  damage 
at  once,  and  driving  the  animal  into  the  pen,  she  was 
thrown  and  ropes  attached  to  her  horns  and  to  each 
hind  leg,  and  pulled  taut. 


286  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

"  Git  on  that  rope,  a  couple  of  you  fellows,"  he 
said,  as  he  and  Shorty  leaned  over  the  cow.  "And 
pull  all  you  know  how." 

Alkali  and  Ben  went  to  Donald's  assistance,  and 
they  pulled  with  all  their  strength  on  the  dislocated 
leg,  while  Shorty  and  Bob  pressed  down  hard  on 
the  joint.  The  cow  gave  a  terrific  bellow,  and  the 
next  instant  the  bone  snapped  into  place. 

Claude  stood  by,  all  agog,  watching  the  proceed- 
ings with  great  interest,  while  the  other  men  looked 
on  from  points  a  little  nearer  the  gate. 

When  the  ropes  were  slipped  off,  the  animal 
struggled  to  its  feet,  and  then  suddenly  and  with- 
out warning,  let  out  another  bellow  and  made 
straight  for  the  surprised  Claude. 

He  promptly  fled  for  the  fence,  and  being  more 
agile  than  Heiny,  he  went  up  it  like  a  squirrel,  and 
was  nearly  safe,  when  his  shirt  caught  on  one  of  the 
barbs  and  held  him  fast. 

A  moment  later  the  cow  crashed  into  it  with  such 
force  that  Claude  was  dislodged,  and  promptly  fell 
under  the  animal's  feet,  and  there  was  a  general  rush 
forward  of  the  other  men  to  drive  her  away,  or  she 


The  Stampede  287 

might  have  done  some  serious  injury.  As  it  was, 
Claude  escaped  with  a  few  bruises  and  a  torn  shirt; 
all  through  his  own  coolheadedness  and  courage,  as 
would  appear  from  his  narration  of  the  event  after- 
ward. 

Instead  of  running  the  steers  off  after  the  cows 
and  calves  had  been  cut  out  of  this  bunch,  they  were 
held  a  short  distance  away  from  the  pen,  since  it 
was  necessary  to  ship  three  thousand  of  them  to 
Denver. 

These  were  not  all  gathered  together  until  the 
next  afternoon,  but  as  soon  as  the  number  was  com- 
plete the  entire  outfit  started  with  them  for  Perica, 
which  lay  twenty  miles  to  the  northeast. 

Camping  on  the  way,  they  reached  the  shipping 
pen  early  in  the  morning,  and  found  that  the  cars 
were  not  yet  in.  The  herd  was  divided  into  two 
parts  and  six  of  the  men  detailed  to  hold  it,  while 
the  rest  entered  the  pen  and  busied  themselves  in 
getting  the  runway  in  shape,  and  sand  for  the  bot- 
tom of  the  cars  ready,  so  that  there  should  be  no 
delay  when  the  train  did  arrive. 

Donald,  Bronco,  and  Kentucky  Bill  were  holding 


288  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

the  half  of  the  herd  furthest  away  from  the  pen 
and  nearest  the  track,  and  they  had  their  hands  full. 
For  some  reason  the  cattle  were  unusually  restive. 
They  kept  continually  in  motion,  a  few  milling 
around  and  around,  but  the  majority  moving  about 
in  an  aimless  manner,  and  apparently  utterly  unable 
to  stand  still.  Those  on  the  outer  edge  of  the  herd 
showed  a  decided  and  irritating  tendency  to  stray 
away,  and  every  few  moments  one  would  make  a 
quick  dash  for  the  plains,  so  that  the  three  fellows 
had  to  be  constantly  on  the  alert  to  keep  them  to- 
gether. 

"  They're  sure  full  of  the  devil  to-day,"  Donald 
remarked,  as  he  met  Bronco  on  one  of  the  rounds. 

"  I  sh'd  say  yes,"  the  latter  returned.  "  I  reckon 
we're  goin'  t'  have  a  storm.  They  most  gener- 
ally begin  t'  act  up  three  or  four  hours  before  it 
comes." 

"  Well,  I  don't  see  any  signs  of  it  now,"  Donald 
said,  looking  up  at  the  clear  sky.  "  I  guess  they'll 
be  on  the  way  to  Denver  before  that  happens." 

"  Hope  so.  It  ain't  any  fun  tryin'  t'  hold  a  herd 
in  a  thunderstorm.  Thank  th'  Lord  there's  th' 


The  Stampede  289 

train :  now  we  c'n  git  rid  uh  some  uh  these  critters 
that  are  raisin'  such  a  rumpus." 

The  faint,  far-away  sound  of  the  whistle,  which 
came  from  the  southward,  was  a  welcome  signal  to 
all  hands,  and  Bob  at  once  started  to  drive  the  steers 
into  the  shipping  pen  from  the  other  section  of  the 
herd,  so  that  by  the  time  the  engine  appeared,  slowly 
puffing  its  way  along  the  uneven,  single  track,  the 
pen  was  full. 

The  cattle  cars  were,  of  course,  in  the  body  of  the 
freight,  and  it  took  an  exasperating  amount  of  back- 
ing and  filling  on  the  part  of  the  engine  to  shunt  six 
of  them  down  the  siding.  The  brakes  had  hardly 
ceased  grinding,  however,  before  the  boys  had  the 
incline  pulled  up  into  the  door  of  the  first  car,  and 
in  five  minutes  the  bottom  had  been  sanded  and  a 
line  of  unwilling  steers  pushed  and  prodded  along 
the  runway ;  urged  on  by  shouts  and  yells,  and  wav- 
ing of  hats. 

The  arrival  of  the  train  was  not  calculated  to 
soothe  the  restive  cattle  in  the  second  portion  of  the 
herd.  As  it  rumbled  past  them  there  was  a  general 
crowding  back  on  the  part  of  those  nearest  the  track, 


290  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

which  was  communicated  to  the  rest,  and  it  was 
only  by  dint  of  the  most  constant  watchfulness  that 
the  three  men  could  keep  them  in  hand.  During 
the  manoeuverings  which  followed,  every  short, 
sharp  toot  of  the  whistle,  and  every  crash  of  the 
cars  bumping  together,  was  followed  by  a  more  or 
less  local  disturbance  among  the  steers,  until  the 
men  were  in  a  state  of  unsuppressed  rage,  and  ap- 
plied sundry  extremely  uncomplimentary  epithets, 
not  alone  to  the  engineer,  but  to  every  official  of  the 
road,  up  to  the  president. 

At  length  the  first  six  cars  were  in  place  and  then, 
for  some  reason,  unknown  and  utterly  unnecessary, 
there  came  a  sudden  shrill,  prolonged,  vibrating 
shriek  of  the  whistle. 

That  was  enough.  Like  a  shot  a  dozen  steers 
broke  from  the  bunch  and  started  across  the  plains 
at  a  gallop;  twenty  followed  the  next  instant,  and  in 
two  seconds  half  the  herd  was  running. 

"  Get  after  'em!  "  Bob  yelled.  "  Get  after  'em! 
Turn  th'  herd!" 

His  voice  sounded  clear  above  the  thunder  of  fly- 
ing hoofs,  and  instantly  the  men  in  the  corral 


The  Stampede  291 

dropped  everything,  and  running  out  to  their  horses, 
vaulted  into  the  saddles  and  started  off:  some  fol- 
lowed the  stampeding  mob,  and  others  hurried  to 
the  assistance  of  those  who  were  striving  desper- 
ately to  hold  what  was  left  of  the  first  lot  of  cat- 
tle, most  of  whom  were  doing  their  best  to  break 
away  and  follow  the  others. 

Donald  had  often  heard  the  men  tell  about  stam- 
pedes, and  what  was  usually  done  to  stop  them ;  con- 
sequently, when  the  first  rush  came,  he  did  not  lose 
his  head,  as  he  might  otherwise  have  done,  but 
jabbed  his  spurs  into  Freckles  and  started  in  pur- 
suit. He  knew  that  their  only  hope  of  stopping  the 
stampede  was  to  ride  in  a  line  along  one  side  and, 
gradually  turning  inward,  force  the  cattle  to  con- 
stantly change  their  direction,  so  that,  in  the  course 
of  time,  they  would  end  up  by  milling  around  in  a 
big  circle.  After  that  it  was  easy  enough  to  quiet 
them  down. 

He  did  not  stop  to  think  that  Bob  might  want 
some  more  experienced  man  to  lead  the  line.  To  him 
every  second  seemed  precious,  and  he  went  ahead  on 
his  own  responsibility,  trusting  to  luck  that  he 


292  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

was  doing  the  right  thing,  and  feeling  almost 
certain  that  the  others  would  follow  to  back  him 
up. 

Freckles  responded  nobly  to  his  urging,  and  in 
ten  minutes  he  had  crept  up  to  a  level  with  the  lead- 
ers. Then,  for  the  first  time,  he  looked  back. 
Bronco  and  Kentucky  were  not  far  behind,  but  be- 
tween them  and  the  first  one  of  the  men  who  had 
been  in  the  corral,  was  a  gap  of  fully  a  quarter  of 
a  mile.  He  could  see  that  there  was  no  use  of  trying 
to  do  anything  until  that  space  had  been  very  much 
lessened.  The  three  of  them  might  succeed  in  turn- 
ing the  leaders  of  the  herd,  but  the  main  body  would 
run  straight  ahead,  and  passing  between  them  and 
the  second  section  of  riders,  would  place  them  di- 
rectly in  the  midst  of  the  stampede,  and  things 
would  be  in  an  even  worse  condition  than  before. 
So  he  rode  on,  keeping  Freckles  slightly  in  advance 
of  the  leaders,  and  frequently  looking  back  to  see 
whether  the  others  were  gaining  as  rapidly  as  he 
hoped. 

They  had  gone  some  six  miles  from  the  railroad 
when,  all  at  once,  surmounting  a  rise,  he  was  dis- 


The  Stampede  293 

mayed  to  see,  less  than  a  half  a  mile  ahead,  a  buggy, 
drawn  by  two  horses,  coming  straight  toward  them 
over  the  prairie. 

There  were  two  people  in  it,  and  at  the  sight  of 
the  mob  of  cattle  rushing  at  them,  one  of  them 
pulled  the  horses  in,  and  for  a  moment  they  stood 
still,  as  though  they  didn't  quite  know  what  to  make 
of  it.  Donald  shouted  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  and 
waved  his  arms  frantically  toward  the  left.  Then 
the  man  seemed  to  realize  his  danger,  and  taking 
out  the  whip,  he  lashed  the  horses  over  the  flanks 
and  tried  to  turn  them  around. 

Apparently,  they  were  but  newly-broken  to  har- 
ness, for  as  the  lash  curled  around  them,  one  reared 
up  almost  to  his  full  height,  while  the  other  jerked 
away  from  the  pole  and  nearly  fell. 

The  next  instant  one  of  the  reins  broke  with  a 
snap,  and  the  other  slipped  out  of  the  man's 
hand,  leaving  him  helpless.  Then  the  horses 
wheeled  sharply  around,  nearly  upsetting  the 
buggy  as  they  did  so,  and  bolted  over  the  prairie 
at  a  mad  gallop,  directly  in  the  path  of  the  flying 
cattle. 


294  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

As  they  turned,  Donald  saw  to  his  dismay,  that 
one  of  the  occupants  was  a  woman,  and  bad  as  it 
was  before,  this  somehow  made  things  seem  infi- 
nitely worse.  They  were  barely  two  hundred  feet 
ahead  of  the  stampede  and  absolutely  helpless,  so 
far  as  any  means  of  controlling  the  horses  were  con- 
cerned, and  Donald  shuddered  as  he  pictured  what 
would  happen  if  they  were  caught  in  that  mob  of 
frenzied,  maddened  steers. 

As  he  realized  their  peril,  all  thought  of  turning 
the  herd  left  the  boy's  mind.  His  one  idea  was  to 
catch  up  with  the  runaway  horses,  and  he  strained 
every  effort  to  do  so. 

Slowly  Freckles  gained  on  them.  Inch  by  inch, 
foot  by  foot,  he  crept  up,  until  the  two  hundred  feet 
was  cut  in  half.  Donald's  hat  was  gone;  his  hair 
lay  on  his  forehead,  a  moist,  matted  tangle ;  the  ends 
of  his  handkerchief  fluttered  in  the  wind  behind 
him;  and  as  he  rode,  his  eyes  stared  fixedly  at  the 
backs  of  those  two  ahead.  The  man,  big  and  broad  ; 
whose  dark  hair  was  tinged  with  gray;  the  girl, 
slight  and  fair;  her  golden  curls  shaken  loose  and 
hanging  in  disorder  over  her  shoulders. 


The  Stampede  295 

And  as  the  seconds  passed  an  expression  of  stony 
horror  came  into  the  boy's  face,  for  slowly  the  in- 
credible truth  was  forced  upon  him : 

The  man  was  his  father,  and  the  girl  his  sister 
Sally. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 
THE  UNEXPECTED 

DONALD  was  dazed  and  bewildered.  He  could 
not  understand;  and  for  a  moment  it  seemed 
as  though  he  must  be  dreaming,  and  would  presently 
wake  up.  Then  he  looked  again  and  realized  that  it 
was  only  too  true. 

Sally,  his  own  dear  Sally,  here!  With  a  dry, 
convulsive  sob,  he  brought  his  quirt  down  fiercely 
on  Freckles'  flank. 

He  felt  as  though  he  were  standing  still  and  his 
tense  nerves,  strung  to  the  breaking  point,  pictured 
the  cattle  rushing  rapidly  upon  them.  He  could 
almost  feel  the  hot  breath  of  the  leaders  on  his  neck. 

But  as  he  glanced  around  he  saw  that  they  were 
a  good  hundred  feet  behind,  and  a  little  encouraged, 
he  gave  his  undivided  attention  to  urging  Freckles 
forward,  and  presently  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing 
that  he  was  gaining  even  more  than  he  had  at  first, 

for  there  was  less  than  fifty  feet  to  go  now. 

296 


The  Unexpected  297 

As  he  watched  the  two  in  the  buggy,  a  thrill  of 
pride  went  through  him. 

His  father  sat  erect  and  still.  His  face  was  pale 
and  set,  but  there  was  no  vestige  of  fear  about  it. 
One  hand  clasped  the  edge  of  the  seat  and  the  other 
arm  was  thrown  protectingly  around  his  daughter's 
shoulders. 

As  for  Sally,  she  too  was  pale ;  but  that  was  all. 
She  had  even  forced  herself  to  smile  a  little,  though 
the  corners  of  her  mouth  quivered;  and  she  never 
once  looked  back. 

As  Donald  looked  at  her  he  gritted  his  teeth  and 
dug  his  spurs  into  the  horse.  A  moment  later  he 
had  reached  the  buggy,  and  foot  by  foot  he  worked 
up.  His  eyes  were  fixed  upon  the  horses,  but  as  he 
passed  his  father  he  saw  the  latter  give  a  start,  and 
Sally  uttered  a  low  exclamation  of  astonishment. 
Then  his  fingers  closed  on  the  reins  with  a  convul- 
sive grip. 

At  a  touch  of  his  knee,  Freckles  turned,  and  ex- 
erting all  his  strength  in  one  tremendous  effort,  he 
managed  to  pull  the  horses  half-way  around.  Then, 
still  keeping  his  hold  with  one  hand,  he  lashed  them 


298  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

madly  with  his  quirt  and  stung  them  to  an  even 
greater  speed. 

The  cattle  were  almost  upon  them.  Out  of  the 
corner  of  his  eye  he  could  see  the  line  of  foam- 
flecked,  tossing  heads  and  wildly-rolling  eyes, 
sweeping  forward  like  a  whirlwind,  and  for  one 
brief  instant  he  had  the  dreadful  feeling  that  he  had 
been  too  late. 

There  was  a  last,  desperate  spurt ;  then  the  quirt 
fell  from  his  hand  and  dangled  at  his  wrist,  while 
the  line  of  steers  swept  past,  barely  ten  feet  from  the 
back  of  the  wagon. 

A  minute  later,  with  the  help  of  Freckles,  he  suc- 
ceeded in  pulling  down  the  frightened  horses,  who 
presently  stood  still,  covered  with  foam  and  dirt, 
and  trembling  from  head  to  foot. 

Then  he  slid  off  and  stood  leaning  against  his 
horse.  For  a  moment  he  was  so  weak  that  he  could 
scarcely  move,  but  he  managed  to  pull  himself  to- 
gether and  walked  unsteadily  around  to  the  side  of 
the  wagon,  and,  without  a  word,  lifted  Sally  down. 

Her  arms  went  around  his  neck  and  she  hid  her 
face  on  his  shoulder. 


THE  CATTLE  WERE  ALMOST  UPON  THEM. 


The  Unexpected  299 

"  Don !  oh,  Don !  "  she  sobbed.  "  To  think  it  was 
you." 

For  a  few  minutes  he  stood  there,  stroking  her 
hair  gently.  He  knew  what  a  relief  the  tears  were 
after  that  terrible  strain,  and  besides,  he  was  feeling 
quite  unequal  to  any  words  himself.  Then  he  patted 
her  gently  on  the  shoulder. 

"  There,  old  girl,"  he  whispered  in  her  ear,  and 
there  was  a  little  catch  in  his  voice.  "  Don't  cry  any 
more.  It's  all  over." 

Presently  her  sobs  ceased,  and  feeling  for  her 
handkerchief,  she  wiped  her  eyes. 

"  I  thought  I  should  never  see  you  again,  Don," 
she  said,  looking  up  at  him.  "  Those  dreadful, 
dreadful  creatures!  I  was  never  so  frightened  in 
all  my  life." 

"  Well,  I  never  saw  a  girl  with  so  much  nerve  as 
you  have,"  Donald  said  admiringly.  "  You  sat 
there  as  calm  as  could  be,  when  most  girls  would 
have  fainted  or  gone  into  hysterics." 

"  There  wasn't  any  use.  Probably  I  was  too 
frightened  to  faint.  They  were  awful." 

Mr.  Harrington  sat  calmly  in  the  buggy,  watching 


300  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

the  two  with  a  quizzical  expression  on  his  face.  He 
had  nerves  of  iron,  for  he  showed  not  the  slightest 
trace  of  the  trying  experience  he  had  been  through, 
and  he  had  just  lighted  a  cigar,  which  he  was  smok- 
ing with  as  much  enjoyment  as  though  seated  in  his 
office  in  Wall  Street. 

"  Well,  Don,  my  boy,"  he  said  presently,  as  he 
stepped  to  the  ground.  "  Haven't  you  got  anything 
to  say  to  me  ?  " 

Donald  started  and  wheeled  quickly  around. 

"  Of  course  I  have,  father,"  he  said  eagerly,  as 
their  hands  met  in  a  firm  clasp.  "  I've  done  more 
thinking  in  the  last  fifteen  minutes  than  I  ever  did 
in  my  life  before.  I've  been  a  fool.  I  was  wrong." 

"  I'm  not  so  sure  of  that,"  his  father  said  slowly. 

He  was  still  holding  the  boy's  hand,  and  as  he 
spoke  the  keen  eyes,  so  quick  to  gage  the  worth  of 
men  in  his  employ,  gazed  for  the  first  time  compre- 
hendingly  into  the  clear,  honest  ones  of  his  only 
son. 

"  You've  just  done  something  which  not  all  the 
colleges  or  all  the  books  in  the  world  could  teach 
you.  I  don't  know  but  your  way  is  best,  boy.  You 


The  Unexpected  301 

see,  I've  been  doing  some  tall  thinking  myself,"  he 
added  with  a  smile. 

"  Well,  we  can  talk  that  over  some  other  time," 
he  went  on.  "  The  principal  thing  now  is  to  get 
back  to  that  house.  I  feel  rather  seedy,  and  I  judge 
from  the  way  your  sister  is  fussing  with  her  hair 
that  she  would  like  to  get  at  her  bag." 

"  How  clever  you  are,  dad,  to  guess  it,"  Sally  re- 
marked. "  That's  just  what  I  do  want,  unless 
either  of  you  have  some  hair  pins  in  your  pocket. 
There  isn't  one  left,  and  I'm  a  perfect  fright." 

"  Scarcely  that,  my  dear,"  Mr.  Harrington  said. 
"  Strikes  me  it's  rather  becoming.  Can  we  patch 
up  the  reins,  Don,  so  that  they'll  hold  until  we  get 
back  to  the  ranch  ?  " 

"  I  think  so,"  Donald  said.  "  I've  got  a  piece 
of  wire  in  my  saddle  pocket  which  will  do  the 
trick." 

He  was  a  little  bewildered  at  the  bantering  be- 
tween his  father  and  Sally.  Things  had  never  been 
on  such  a  pleasant,  familiar  footing  in  the  old  days, 
and  as  he  hunted  for  the  wire,  he  wondered  what 
had  brought  about  such  an  extraordinary  change. 


302  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

"  What  a  darling  horse,"  Sally  said,  coming  up 
behind  him.  "  Is  he  your  own,  Don  ?  " 

"  Look  out ! "  Donald  exclaimed  in  alarm. 
"  Don't  touch  him :  he  might  bite  yo,u." 

"  The  idea !  "  Sally  said  indignantly.  "  Of  course 
he  won't  bite  me."  And  before  Donald  could  stop 
her  she  had  come  up  close  to  Freckles  and  was 
gently  stroking  his  soft  nose. 

The  latter  was  taken  by  surprise  and  didn't  seem 
to  know  just  what  to  make  of  her.  For  a  minute 
his  eyes  rolled  alarmingly,  and  he  pawed  the  ground 
nervously.  Then,  gradually,  he  calmed  down,  and 
in  five  minutes  his  head  was  resting  contentedly  on 
the  girl's  shoulder.  "  There !  I  knew  he  wouldn't 
bite,"  Sally  said  triumphantly.  "  I  never  saw  a 
horse  I  couldn't  make  like  me." 

"  He's  the  best  horse  that  ever  lived,"  Donald 
said,  patting  his  neck.  "  He  saved  my  life  not  very 
long  ago." 

"  The  dear  thing !  Was  he  the  one  who  got  you 
away  from  the  fire?  " 

"  No ;  that  was  another  one.  Freckles  killed  a 
Mexican  who  was  going  to  stab  me." 


The  Unexpected  303 

"  Don ! "  Sally  exclaimed,  in  horrified  tones. 
"  You  never  told  me  that.  Why,  what  an  awful 
place  this  is  !  You're  not  safe  a  minute.  Do  come 
back  home  with  us,  Don." 

"  That  was  something  special,"  Donald  went  on 
as  he  punched  a  couple  of  holes  in  the  broken  reins 
and  fastened  the  ends  together  with  wire.  "  It  isn't 
generally  so  bad  as  that. 

"There,  father;  I  guess  that  will  hold  for  a 
while,"  he  went  on.  "  Do  you  know  the  way 
back?" 

"  I  think  I  can  find  it :  but  aren't  you  coming  with 
ws?" 

"  I'd  like  to  awfully,"  Donald  said  wistfully. 
"  But  you  know  the  fellows  will  have  a  lot  to  do  get- 
ting the  steers  back,  and  Bob  will  want  every  one  to 
help." 

"  Bob  ?  What's  his  last  name  ?  "  queried  Mr. 
Harrington. 

"  Edwards.  He's  the  boss  of  the  outfit,"  Donald 
explained.  "  Here  he  conies  now,"  he  added,  as  he 
caught  sight  of  two  men  riding  toward  them.  "  So 
I  guess  they've  stopped  the  stampede." 


304  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

A  few  minutes  later  Bob  and  Bronco  appeared, 
and  at  the  sight  of  Sally  their  hats  went  off,  and 
Bronco  pulled  his  handkerchief  nervously  around 
and  started  to  button  his  vest. 

"  Bob,  I'd  like  you  to  meet  my  father,"  Donald 
said.  "  Father,  this  is  Bob  Edwards,  the  ranch 
boss." 

"  I'm  glad  to  meet  you,  Mr.  Edwards,"  Mr.  Har- 
rington said,  as  they  shook  hands.  "  I  have  a  letter 
for  you  from  Mr.  Harden,  whom  I  saw  in  Chicago  a 
few  days  ago." 

"  Glad  t'  know  you,  sir,"  Bob  replied.  "  Hope 
you  didn't  get  much  shook  up.  Kind  of  a  nasty 
thing,  th'  rein  breakin'  that  way.  I  saw  th'  whole 
business,  but  was  too  far  off  t'  do  anythin'.  But 
Pete,  here,  got  you  out  of  it  all  right." 

At  the  mention  of  this  name  Mr.  Harrington 
looked  a  little  blank,  but  he  made  no  comment. 

"  Yes;  we  did  have  a  close  shave,"  he  said.  "  But 
it's  all  over  now.  I  think  we'll  go  back  to  the  house 
and  I'd  like  to  have  my  son  come  with  us,  if  you 
can  spare  him." 

Bob  had  run  hastily  through  the  letter. 


The  Unexpected  305 

"  I  reckon  I  can,"  he  said  with  a  smile.  "  Th' 
president  says  t'  give  you  anything  you  want,  an' 
help  you  out  any  way  I  can.  As  soon  as  I  get  this 
bunch  of  steers  shipped  I'll  ride  in  t'  th'  ranch,  an' 
we  c'n  talk  over  th'  other  business." 

Meanwhile  Donald  had  taken  Bronco  over  to 
Sally. 

"  Sally,  this  is  my  chum  Bronco "  he  started 

out.  "  Well,  I'll  be  switched  if  I  know  what  your 
other  name  is,"  he  laughed.  "  I  never  had  any  use 
for  it  before." 

Bronco  flushed  a  little  as  he  took  the  girl's 
hand. 

"  I  don't  guess  you  need  t'  bother  with  it  now,  if 
Miss  Sally  don't  mind.  It  wouldn't  sound  natural." 

"  Of  course  I  don't,"  Sally  said.  "  I'll  call  you 
anything  you  like,  and  I'm  awfully  glad  to  meet 
you — Bronco." 

"  Thank  you,"  Bronco  said,  and  then  he  went  on. 
"  That  was  great,  Pete !  I  tell  you  I  was  never 
s'  worried  in  m'  life  fur  fear  you  wouldn't  git  there 
in  time.  I  clean  forgot  about  th'  herd,  watchin' 
you,  an'  when  you  pulled  out  uh  th'  way  jest  in 


306  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

time,  you  ought  t'  heard  th'  yell  uh  joy  me  an  Bill 
let  out." 

"  Wasn't  it  splendid !  "  Sally  said  enthusiastically. 
"And  you  could  see  it  much  better  than  I  could. 
Of  course,"  she  added  frankly,  "  I  wasn't  think- 
ing about  how  it  looked.  I  was  so  frightened  I 
don't  believe  I  thought  of  anything.  Did  you  stop 
those  dreadful  creatures  at  last?" 

"  Yes :  we  turned  'em  about  three  miles  further 
on.  Th'  boys  are  bringin'  'em  back  now." 

"  Mercy ! "  Sally  exclaimed,  looking  nervously 
around.  "  Bringing  them  back  here  ?  " 

"They  won't  come  near  enough  to  hurt,  an'  be- 
sides they're  all  over  their  scare  now,"  Bronco  as- 
sured her.  They've  got  t'  be  shipped  by  th'  rail- 
road." 

"Oh "  Plainly  Sally  was  not  quite  satisfied. 

The  thought  of  seeing  that  herd  of  steers  again,  even 
at  a  distance,  was  distinctly  unpleasant. 

"  Well,  Pete,"  Mr.  Harrington  remarked,  with 
emphasis  on  the  name  and  a  near  approach  to  a  grin 
on  his  face,  "  Bob  says  he  can  spare  you,  so  we  may 
as  well  get  started.  I'll  see  you  later  then,  Bob," 


The  Unexpected  307 

he  went  on  as  he  shook  hands  with  the  wagon  boss. 
"  Come  along,  Sally." 

Sally  got  into  the  buggy  with  alacrity.  The  steers 
were  apparently  still  on  her  mind.  Mr.  Harrington 
followed  more  leisurely  and  picked  up  the  reins. 
Then  Donald  mounted  Freckles,  and  waving  adieu 
to  the  two  cowboys,  who  turned  in  the  other  direc- 
tion, they  started  off  for  Rita  Blanca. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 
EXPLANATIONS 

that  the  excitement  is  all  over,"  Don- 
aid  said  as  he  rode  alongside  of  the 
buggy,  "  perhaps  one  of  you  will  relieve  my  curi- 
osity and  tell  me  how  in  the  world  you  two  come  to 
be  here,  of  all  places." 

Mr.  Harrington  chuckled. 

"  It's  very  simple,"  he  said.  "  I  came  to  Chicago 
to  negotiate  the  purchase  of  some  range  land  for 
a  company  I  am  pretty  heavily  interested  in. 
Mr.  Harden,  the  principal  stockholder  of  the  X  L 
ranch,  advised  me  to  look  into  things  personally, 
and  as  I  needed  a  change  and  this  minx  was  pester- 
ing the  life  out  of  me  to  go  to  Texas,  I  just  came : 
that's  all." 

"  Now,  dad,"  Sally  admonished,  "  tell  the  whole 
truth.  You  wanted  to  come  just  about  as  much  as 

I  did." 

308 


Explanations  309 

"  Well,  perhaps  I  did,"  Mr.  Harrington  admitted. 
"  I  thought  I'd  like  to  see  how  you  were  making  out, 
Don.  It's  a  long  time  since  you  went  away,  and  I 
knew  you  wouldn't  let  us  know,  even  if  things  didn't 
come  your  way." 

"  How  did  you  ever  know  where  to  find  me  ?  " 
Don  asked  curiously. 

Mr.  Harrington  cast  an  expressive  glance  at  his 
daughter. 

"  Did  you  ever  know  a  woman  to  keep  a  secret  ?  " 
he  asked,  smiling. 

"  Why,  the  idea,  dad,"  Sally  exclaimed  indig- 
nantly, "  I  never  told  a  word  until  that  day  you  said 
you  knew  where  he  was,  and  asked  me  what  sort  of 
a  place  Channing  was,  and  how  to  get  there." 

"  Well,  my  dear,  I'm.not  exactly  a  candidate  for  a 
lunatic  asylum,"  her  father  said  banteringly.  "And 
noting  the  weekly  arrival  of  letters  from  Channing 
in  your  brother's  handwriting,  I  naturally  inferred 
that  he  was  located  there  permanently.  I  counted 
on  you  to  supply  the  details,  which  you  did  very 
obligingly." 

"Aren't  you  horrid  to  wheedle  it  out  of  me  that 


310  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

way,"  Sally  pouted.  "  I  thought  you  knew  all  about 
it,  or  I  shouldn't  have  said  a  word." 

"  Well,  I'm  glad  that's  explained,"  Donald  said. 
"  I  couldn't  understand  it  all,  and  it  was  a  regular 
knockout  blow  to  suddenly  come  upon  you  when  I 
hadn't  the  most  remote  idea  that  either  of  you  were 
within  a  thousand  miles  of  here.  By-the-bye, 
Sally,"  he  went  on,  "what  in  the  mischief  are  Elsie 
Kingdon  and  Katherine  Travers  doing  around 
here?" 

"Katherine!"  Sally  shrieked.  "Where  in  the 
world  did  you  see  her ;  or  are  you  fooling  ?  " 

"  No,  I'm  not.  It's  straight  goods.  She  and  Elsie 
came  out  to  our  camp  about  a  week  ago." 

"What  did  she  say?  Why  are  they  here?" 
Sally  asked  with  much  interest.  "  To  think  that  I 
missed  them." 

"They  didn't  say  anything  to  me,"  Donald  said 
with  a  reminiscent  grin.  "  They  spent  most  of  the 
time  commenting  on  how  dirty  I  was,  and  how  much 
I  needed  a  bath,  and  wondering  how  I  came  to  look 
so  much  like  your  brother.  They  didn't  recognize 
me,  you  see,"  he  explained. 


Explanations  3 1 1 

"How  perfectly  hateful  of  them!"  Sally  said 
hotly.  "  I  can't  understand  it.  Elsie  might ;  she's 
an  awful  cat  sometimes;  but  Katherine " 

"  Oh,  Katherine  was  all  right ;  it  was  mostly 
Elsie.  Besides,  I  don't  blame  them  for  not  knowing 
me.  I  looked  pretty  fierce  that  day." 

"  Well,  I  can't  think  what  they  are  here  for," 
Sally  said  with  a  puzzled  frown.  "  Can  you, 
dad?" 

"  Who  are  you  talking  about,"  Mr.  Harrington 
inquired  absently. 

"  Katherine  Travers  and  Elsie  Kingdon.  Don 
says  they  came  out  to  his  camp  a  week  ago." 

"  Very  likely  they  are  with  Mr.  Kingdon.  He 
was  to  meet  me  here  to-morrow  about  this  matter 
of  purchasing  land,  and  he  probably  brought  the 
girls  along." 

"How  perfect!"  Sally  exclaimed.  "Then  I 
shall  see  them  after  all.  I  wonder  where  they  were 
this  morning." 

When  they  reached  the  ranch  house  inquiry  re- 
vealed the  fact  that  Mr.  Kingdon,  with  a  friend  and 
the  two  young  ladies,  had  spent  a  night  there  more 


312  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

than  a  week  ago,  and  had  departed  early  the  next 
morning  on  a  short  trip  into  New  Mexico,  leaving 
word  that  they  expected  to  return  in  a  few  days. 

So  Sally  was  obliged  to  possess  her  soul  in  pa- 
tience until  her  friends  appeared,  and  in  the  mean- 
time she  sought  the  seclusion  of  her  room  to  repair 
damages. 

Don  went  over  to  the  bunk  house  to  wash  up,  and 
when  he  returned  his  sister  was  waiting  for  him. 
She  was  eager  to  hear  everything  which  had  hap- 
pened to  him,  and  even  made  him  tell  over  again 
the  things  he  had  written  about.  They  were  con- 
sequently still  deep  in  conversation  when,  about  five 
o'clock,  they  heard  the  sounds  of  wheels  outside,  and 
a  moment  later  the  door  opened  and  several  people 
entered. 

There  was  a  simultaneous  shriek  of  surprise  as 
Sally  flew  toward  them,  followed  by  fervent  em- 
braces and  excited  talking  from  all  at  once.  Don 
had  withdrawn  to  the  window,  and  stood  with  his 
back  toward  them,  taking  it  all  in  with  more  or  less 
enjoyment. 

"And  you  only  came  this  morning,"  he  heard 


Explanations  313 

Elsie  say,  after  the  excitement  had  subsided  a  little. 
"  You  ought  to  be  thankful.  My  dear,  such  a  week 
as  we've  had  I  never  hope  to  go  through  again.  I'm 
worn  to  a  shadow." 

"  It  hasn't  been  so  bad,  Elsie,"  Katherine  ob- 
jected. "  Of  course,  there's  a  great  deal  of  dust, 
and  the  wagon  was  uncomfortable,  and  the  food 
isn't  Delmonico's ;  but  everything  is  so  new  and  fas- 
cinating, and  I've  enjoyed  myself  tremendously." 

"  You'd  enjoy  anything,"  Elsie  said  rather 
crossly  as  she  patted  her  hair  into  place.  "  Why, 
you  even  liked  that  awful  burning  letters  on  those 
idiotic  calves  out  in  the  pen.  You  have  no  idea, 
Sally,  how  disgusting " 

She  stopped  suddenly  and  flushed  scarlet.  At  that 
moment  Don  turned  around,  and  as  she  looked  into 
his  laughing  eyes,  she  wished  she  could  sink  through 
the  floor. 

"  Hello,  girls ! "  he  said  gaily,  as  he  walked 
over  to  them.  "  So  you  don't  like  life  on  a  Texas 
ranch." 

"  Why,  Don  Harrington !  "  Katherine  exclaimed. 
"Where  on  earth  did  you  come  from?"  Then  a 


3 14  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

light  seemed  to  break  upon  her.     "  For  goodness 
sake !  "  she  gasped.     "  It  ivas  you,  then." 

"  It  sure  was,"  Don  replied  with  a  grin.  "  Maybe 
you  don't  want  to  shake  hands  with  me." 

"  How  silly  you  are !  "  Elsie  said,  as  she  recov- 
ered her  composure  and  took  his  outstretched  hand. 
"  But  you  must  admit  it  was  a  little  startling  to 

find — well,  to  know Oh,  how  do  you  do,  Mr. 

Harrington  ?  " 

The  latter's  appearance  was  most  opportune. 
Elsie  seized  his  hand  much  as  though  it  was  a  life 
preserver,  and  the  situation  was  saved. 

When  they  sat  down  to  the  supper  table  a  little 
later,  they  had  everything  to  themselves  and  made 
a  very  merry  party.  The  girls  had  an  incredible 
number  of  things  to  tell  each  other,  but  by  dint  of 
all  talking  at  once  and  doing  it  fast,  they  compressed 
a  great  deal  of  information  into  a  short  period  of 
time,  and  before  the  meal  was  over  each  one  had 
acquired  a  fairly  accurate  knowledge  of  what  had 
happened  to  the  others  since  they  had  last  met. 

They  had  scarcely  finished  when  Bob  arrived,  and 
having  taken  a  hasty  bite,  he  joined  Mr.  Harrington, 


Explanations  315 

Mr.  Kingdon,  and  Donald  in  the  office  of  the  ranch 
house.  The  former  at  once  got  down  to  business. 

"  Some  friends  and  myself  have  formed  a  com- 
pany to  purchase  ranch  property,"  he  said  as  he  lit 
his  cigar.  "  I  was  advised  to  buy  this  ranch  if  I 

*» 

could,  but  Mr.  Harden  tells  me  it  isn't  in  the  mar- 
ket, so  that's  out  of  the  question.  He  says,  how- 
ever, that  there  are  several  other  desirable  proper- 
ties in  this  part  of  Texas  which  can  be  bought,  and 
advised  me  to  consult  with  you  as  to  the  best  ones." 

"  I  see,"  Bob  said  thoughtfully.  "About  how  big 
a  ranch  were  you  thinking  of  ?  " 

"  We  had  in  mind  one  roughly  the  size  of  this 
one,"  Mr.  Harrington  replied. 

"  There  ain't  any  as  big  as  this  around  here,  but 
you  could  buy  two  or  three,  an'  combine  'em.  You'll 
want  to  run  all  under  one  management,  I  'spose." 

"  That  would  be  the  most  economical  way, 
wouldn't  it?" 

"  Sure.  You  get  better  results.  Well,  the  Lazy 
X  outfit's  the  next  best  one  to  this.  They've  got 
about  four  hundred  thousand  acres  just  south  of  the 
Canadian,  an'  I  reckon  you  could  buy  that.  South 


316  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

of  them  is  the  J.  K.  outfit,  which  ain't  quite  so  big. 
Don't  know  whether  it's  in  the  market  or  not :  fel- 
low from  Austin  owns  it.  There's  a  couple  of  small 
outfits  join  them  two  on  the  east,  an'  if  you  could 
get  the  four  of  'em  you'd  have  a  place  about  as  big 
as  this,  an'  better  land." 

Mr.  Harrington  was  silent  for  a  moment. 

"  How  long  would  it  take  us  to  look  over  this 
property?"  he  asked  presently. 

"  Couple  of  days.    Want  me  to  go  with  you  ?  " 

"  I'd  be  obliged  if  you  could,"  Mr.  Harrington 
said.  "  It  would  make  things  easier  for  us.  Can 
we  start  to-morrow  ?  " 

"  I  reckon  so.  Th'  boys  have  got  enough  t'  keep 
'em  busy  for  awhile." 

Consequently,  the  next  morning  the  four  started 
southward.  A  couple  of  gentle  horses  had  been 
saddled  up  for  the  two  Easterners,  while  Donald, 
who  went  along  at  his  father's  request,  rode 
Freckles.  Mr.  Kingdon's  brother  stayed  behind 
with  the  girls. 

They  were  back  late  on  the  following  day,  having 
satisfactorily  inspected  the  four  ranches,  and  Mr. 


Explanations  317 

Harrington  was  much  pleased  with  the  result.  The 
properties  in  question  were  so  situated  that  they 
could  very  easily  be  thrown  into  one,  and  he  at  once 
telegraphed  his  agents  to  see  if  they  could  make 
the  purchase,  and  at  what  terms. 


CHAPTER  XXX 
"S'LONG" 

A?TER  supper  Don  and  his  father  strolled 
slowly  away  from  the  house  along  the  trail. 

"  Well,  Don ;  do  you  think  you  could  manage  a 
ranch  such  as  that  will  be?  "  the  latter  asked,  after 
a  short  period  of  silence. 

Donald  did  not  answer  at  once. 

"  I  don't  believe  I  could  just  yet,"  he  said  pres- 
ently. "  That  is,  and  do  it  right.  You  see,  father, 
I'm  still  pretty  green,  and  there's  a  whole  lot  I  don't 
know  about  the  cattle  business.  Of  course,  I  should 
be  perfectly  willing  to  try  it,  but  I  might  make  a 
botch  of  the  thing.  If  I'd  had  a  couple  of  years 
more  of  experience  it  would  be  different." 

Mr.  Harrington  puffed  leisurely  on  his  cigar. 

"  How  do  you  feel  about  all  this  sort  of  thing?  " 
he  asked  suddenly.  "  Do  you  like  it  well  enough  to 
make  it  your  life  work,  or  would  you  get  tired  of  it 

in  a  year  or  so  ?  " 

318 


"S'long"  319 

They  had  stopped  walking  and  stood  on  the  edge 
of  the  plateau,  looking  down  upon  the  valley  through 
which  the  stream  ran.  The  sun  had  dropped  out  of 
sight,  leaving  the  western  sky  a  riot  of  crimson  and 
gold.  In  the  valley  below  the  purple  shadows  had 
begun  to  deepen,  and  intensified  by  their  very  con- 
trast the  silvery  glitter  of  the  stream  as  it  wound  in 
and  out  among  the  rocks. 

Straight  ahead  they  could  see  for  miles  across  the 
rolling  prairie.  The  breeze  had  died  down  and  it 
was  still;  and  as  the  gray,  mysterious  twilight  be- 
gan slowly  to  creep  up,  enfolding  the  edges  of  the 
plain  and  changing  the  perspective  with  each  suc- 
ceeding moment,  that  prairie  seemed  to  Donald  not 
a  dull,  monotonous  expanse,  but  a  thing  of  wonder- 
ful, illusive  charm;  palpitating  with  life;  unfathom- 
able in  its  mystery,  and  yet  having  about  it  some- 
thing intimate  and  familiar;  something  that  he  knew 
and  loved  in  every  one  of  its  varied  moods,  and 
which  fascinated  him  more  than  words  could  express. 

He  drew  a  quick,  sharp  breath. 

"  I  should  never  tire  of  it,"  he  said  simply. 

"  I  don't  believe  you  would,"  his  father  said.    He 


320  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

had  been  watching  the  boy's  face,  in  which  the  play 
of  his  emotions  was  almost  as  clear  as  the  con- 
stantly changing  panorama  of  nature  about  them. 
"  And  I  can  understand  the  fascination  of  it,"  he 
went  on.  "  Personally,  I  should  stagnate  here ;  but 
the  difference  between  us  is  only  comparative.  In 
order  to  exist  I  must  have  obstacles  to  overcome; 
opposition  to  vanquish;  difficulties  and  dangers  to 
calculate  a  way  out  of;  but  it  is  all  mental.  You 
have  exactly  the  same  outlook  upon  life,  except  that 
its  expression  is  physical.  You  could  no  more  en- 
gineer a  deal  in  stocks  than  I  could  break  one  of 
your  broncos,  but  the  fundamental  principle  is  the 
same.  You  see,  we  are  very  much  alike  after  all,  boy." 

Donald  looked  at  his  father  with  a  quick  smile. 

"  You  do  understand  a  fellow,  dad,"  he  said. 
"  That's  exactly  the  way  I  feel." 

"  It's  about  time  I  did,  Don,"  Mr.  Harrington 
said,  and  a  slight  shadow  crossed  his  face.  Then  he 
went  on: 

"  Suppose  we  try  this  scheme.  Before  you  finally 
commit  yourself  to  cow-punching,  suppose  you  have 
one  more  taste  of  the  old  life.  Come  home  and 


"S'long"  321 

spend  the  summer  with  Sally  and  me.  Then,  in  the 
fall,  if  you  still  feel  that  '  call  of  the  plains '  in 
your  blood,  you  can  come  back.  By  that  time  we 
shall  probably  have  purchased  and  combined  these 
ranches,  and  you  can  start  in  there  to  absord  knowl- 
edge with  the  idea  of  ultimately  running  it  for  the 
company.  How  does  that  strike  you?" 

"  It's  bully,  dad,"  Donald  said  enthusiastically. 
"  It's  more  than  I  ever  hoped  for,  or  deserved,  and 
I  agree  to  it  with  all  my  heart." 

"  Good !  "  said  his  father,  as  their  hands  met  in  a 
hearty  clasp.  "  We'll  consider  that  settled,  then.  And 
that  being  the  case,  suppose  we  go  back  to  the  house." 

Next  morning  Donald  came  upon  Bob  on  the 
porch  of  the  bunk  house,  and  at  once  told  him  of 
his  early  departure  from  the  ranch. 

"  I  ain't  surprised,"  the  latter  said.  "  I  kind  uh 
thought  you'd  be  goin',  an'  I'm  darned  sorry  to  lose 
you,  Pete.  You're  just  about  gettin'  to  be  a  lot  of 
use  to  me,  an'  besides,  I  like  you  a  whole  lot,  an'  so 
do  the  boys.  Comin'  back?  " 

"  I  sure  am,"  Donald  said  quickly.  "  I  couldn't 
stay  away  very  long." 


322  Pete,  Cow-Puncher 

"  That's  good,"  Bob  said  approvingly.  "  Well, 
you'll  want  t'  run  out  an'  see  th'  boys,  I  reckon. 
They're  'bout  half-way  between  here  an'  Poloma. 
You  can  make  it  in  a  couple  of  hours." 

"  I  guess  I'll  ride  out  this  morning.  Oh,  by-the- 
way,  Bob;  I  want  to  buy  Freckles." 

"  Hm !  You  do  ?  "  Bob  scratched  his  head.  "  We 
ain't  supposed  to  sell  any  of  the  horses  unless  they're 
condemned."  There  was  a  moment's  pause.  "  Now 
if  it  was  your  father  that  wanted  him,"  he  sug- 
gested with  a  grin.  "  Mr.  Harden  says  I  was  to  give 
him  anything  he  wanted." 

"  Well,  that's  what  it  will  amount  to,"  Donald 
said,  laughing.  "  He'll  do  the  paying." 

"  I  reckon  it'll  be  all  right,  then.  Cost  you 
about  fifty  dollars;  he's  a  good  horse,  you 
know." 

"  I  certainly  do.    That's  why  I  want  him." 

Directly  after  breakfast  Donald  saddled  up  and 
started  for  camp.  He  found  it  easily  enough  and 
rode  in  just  in  time  for  dinner.  When  he  announced 
his  early  departure,  there  was  a  universal  protest, 
in  which  even  Heiny  joined,  and  they  all  begged  him 


"S'long"  323 

to  reconsider,  and  stay  a  while  longer.  This  was, 
of  course,  impossible,  and  when  they  found  that  he 
couldn't  be  moved,  they  had  to  content  themselves 
with  his  promise  to  return  in  the  fall. 

He  did  not  tell  them  that  he  might  not  come  back 
to  the  X  L  outfit.  His  father  did  not  want  the 
project  generally  known,  and  besides,  if  he  were 
located  on  the  Lazy  X  ranch,  he  would  see  almost 
as  much  of  the  fellows  as  before. 

He  stayed  a  couple  of  hours  after  dinner,  and 
then,  bidding  them  good-by  all  around,  he  started 
back,  accompanied  by  Bronco,  who  was  to  ride  part 
of  the  way  with  him. 

As  soon  as  they  were  well  out  of  camp,  Donald 
unfolded  his  plans  to  the  latter,  who  was  much  inter- 
ested. 

"  Say ;  that'll  be  great,  won't  it  ?  "  he  exclaimed 
enthusiastically.  "  I  reckon  I  c'n  get  a  job  with  th' 
Lazy  X's  all  right.  Let  me  know  as  soon's  you're 
thinkin'  uh  comin'  back,  an'  I'll  pull  up  stakes  here 
an'  make  a  bee-line  south." 

"  Bully  for  you !  I  was  wondering  if  you 
wouldn't  come  along,  too.  I'll  write  you  every  week, 


324  Pete,   Cow-Puncher 

and  you  must  answer  the  letters.  That  way  you'll 
know  when  to  make  a  move." 

"  I  sure  will,"  Bronco  answered.  "  Well,  I  reckon 
I'll  get  started  back,"  he  added,  as  they  pulled  up  at 
the  edge  of  the  breaks.  "  I'm  blamed  sorry  t'  have 
you  go,  Pete.  We've  been  pretty  good  pals,  an'  I 
don't  jest  know  what  I'll  do  with  m'self  with  you 
away.  Lucky  it  ain't  for  long ;  them  two  months  '11 
go  before  we  know  it.  I  ain't  goin'  t'  say  good- 
by,"  he  went  on,  holding  out  his  hand.  "  I  hate 
say  in'  good-by;  it  always  seems  sort  of  long  an' 
unpleasant." 

"  Don't  say  it,  then,"  Donald  said,  as  he  gripped 
his  hand.  "  It  really  isn't  good-by,  you  know." 

"  I  know  it  ain't."  He  wheeled  his  horse  around 
and  started  off  at  a  canter.  A  moment  later  he 
turned  in  his  saddle,  and  pulling  off  his  hat,  waved 
it  at  Donald. 

"  S'long,  Pete,"  he  yelled.    "  See  you  soon." 

THE  END 


By    JOSEPH    B.   AMES 

Western  stories  for  boys  from  10  to  16  years 
ILLUSTRATED  BY  VICTOR  PERARD  Each,  $1.50 

JUST   ISSUED 

PETE,  COW   PUNCHER 

This  is  another  Western  tale  in  which  the  author  and 
illustrator  of  "  The  Treasure  of  the  Canyon "  have 
again  combined  with  still  happier  results.  While  orig- 
inally intended  for  growing  boys,  it  will  also  appeal 
to  their  elders.  Perhaps  nowhere  else  can  a  more  faith- 
ful picture,  absolutely  devoid  of  straining  for  glamor, 
be  found  of  the  cowboy's  life  by  one  who  has  lived 
it.  Its  monotony,  hardships,  and  frequent  griminess 
are  clearly  shown,  but  the  spice  of  adventure  and 
mortal  peril  is  not  lacking.  The  story  is  told  from 
the  viewpoint  of  the  tenderfoot  who  becomes  a  cow- 
boy. The  tone  is  manly  and  elevating,  but  beautifully 
escapes  any  obvious  moralizing. 

RECENTLY   ISSUED 

THE   TREASURE  of  the  CANYON 

A  story  of  adventure  in  Arizona.      $1.50 

Dick  Carew,  a  likable  young  fellow  of  sixteen,  joins  an 
expedition  which  is  fitted  out  to  search  for  relics  of 
the  Cliff  Dwellers  in  Arizona.  The  strange  appearance 
of  an  ancient  document,  giving  the  key  to  the  hiding- 
place  of  a  portion  of  the  treasures  of  Montezuma,  is 
followed  by  the  search  for  it  through  the  entire  length 
of  the  Grand  Canyon  of  the  Colorado.  Later,  Dick 
and  a  companion  scale  the  cliffs  and  start  for  civiliza- 
tion to  get  help.  Their  subsequent  adventures  furnish 
enough  thrills  for  even  the  most  captious  boy  reader. 
It  is  a  clean,  wholesome  story  for  boys  from  nine  to 
sixteen  years. 

"  A  bright,  wholesome  book  .  .  .  full  of  the  joy  of  youth  .  .  . 
well-written,  readable." — Louisville  Courier-Journal. 

"The  narrative  is  bully  reading  for  boys  and  it  is  also  one  of  the  kind 
that  men  love  to  run  through,  just  to  remind  them  of  the  old  days  and  the 
absorbing  books  they  used  to  read  when  they  ought  to  be  studying  their 
lessons  .  .  .  blood-stirring  yet  wholesome,  and  its  descriptions  of  the 
Grand  Canyon  and  Painted  Desert,  not  to  speak  of  the  wealth  of  Aztec 
history  and  lore  of  the  cliff  dwellers,  makes  it  a  valuable  work,  to  be 
ranked  among  the  masterpieces  of  books  for  the  young." — Albany 
Journal. 

If  the  reader  will  send  his  name  and  address  the  publishers  will, 
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By  Mary  W.  Plummer 

Director  of  the  Pratt  Institute  Library  School 

Stories  of  Modern   Travel 

For  boys  and  girls  from  10  to  16  years 

With  maps  and  illustrations  from  photographs,  national  songs 
with  music,  and  index.  Large  izmo,  each  $1.75  net ;  by  mail, 
$1.90.  Each  in  special  library  bindings,  10  cents  net  additional. 

JUST   ISSUED 

ROY   AND    RAY   IN    CANADA 

The  increasing  popularity  of  the  author's  book  of  Mexican 
travel  for  children  assures  a  warm  welcome  to  the  story  of  Roy 
and  Ray's  trip  to  the  land  of  Wolfe  and  Evangeline  as  it  appears 
to-day. 

The  volume  embodies  very  much  that  is  interesting  concerning 
Canadian  history,  manners  and  customs,  as  well  as  descriptions 
that  describe  and  pictures  that  really  illustrate.  The  book  will 
be  useful  as  a  travel  guide,  but  it  is  primarily  intended  to  cover 
a  hitherto  neglected  field  and  should  be  particularly  useful  to 
teachers  and  school  children. 

RECENTLY   ISSUED 

ROY  AND   RAY   IN   MEXICO 

A  story  of  Mexican  travel  for  children.  Roy  and  Ray  Stevens, 
twins  "  going  on  twelve,"  with  their  parents,  spend  a  summer 
in  Mexico.  The  book  tells  from  the  children's  standpoint  what 
they  see  and  do,  and  what  they  learn  about  Mexico.  They  visit 
eight  Mexican  cities,  going  as  far  south  as  Oaxaca.  They  meet 
President  Diaz,  learn  Mexican  habits  and  customs,  particularly 
those  of  the  mass  of  the  population,  take  part  in  the  Fourth  of 
July  celebration  of  the  American  colony  in  the  City  of  Mexico, 
visit  the  ruins  of  Mitla,  learn  some  very  interesting  Mexican 
history,  and  spend  much  time  in  comparing  things  Mexican 
with  things  American. 

Many  minor  responsibilities  of  travel  are  in  the  children's 
hands,  and  they  learn  much  of  traveling  customs  and  etiquette. 
The  spirit  of  travel  permeates  the  book. 

"  Will  be  welcome  to  many  readers  of  mature  years  as  well  as  to  the 
juveniles  for  whom  it  is  primarily  written.  .  .  .  Embodies  very  much 
that  is  of  interest  respecting  Mexican  history,  manners  and  customs  as 
well  as  descriptions  of  scenery.  It  deserves  the  widest  circulation  in  this 
country,  and  no  public  library  can  afford  to  be  without  it." — Boston 
Transcript, 

"Very  bright  and  accurate.  .  .  .  All  the  novel  sights  of  this  tropical 
land  come  before  the  vision  of  these  children  like  a  moving-picture  show. 
They  visit  eight  cities,  and  what  they  don't  see  is  not  worth  telling  about. 
.  .  .  Pictures  are  good  and  really  illustrate."— Mexican  Herald 
(City  of  Mexico). 

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The  Boys  of  Bob's  Hill 

By  CHARLES   PIERCE   BURTON 

Illustrated  by  George  A.  Williams.     lamo.     $1.25. 

A  lively  story  of  a  party  of  boys  in  a  small  New  England 
town.  Fun,  sport,  and  exciting  adventures  are  every-day 
matters.  On  holidays  everything  happening  in  their  neigh- 
borhood leads  up  to  hair-breadth  escapes  or  jolly  mishaps. 

"  A  first-rate  juvenile  ...  a  real  story  for  the  live  human  boy — any 
boy  will  read  it  eagerly  to  the  end  .  .  .  quite  thrilling  adventures." — 
Chicago  Record-Herald, 

"Tom  Sawyer  would  have  been  a  worthy  member  of  the  Bob's  Hill 
crowd  and  shared  their  good  times  and  thrilling  adventures  with 
uncommon  relish.  ...  A  jolly  group  of  youngsters  as  nearly  true  to 
the  real  thing  in  boy  nature  as  one  can  ever  expect  to  find  between 
covers. " — Christ ia n  Register. 

Nelson's  Yankee   Boy 

By  FREDERICK  H.  COSTELLO,  author  of  «  On  Fighting 
Decks  in  1812." 

Illustrated  by  W.  H.  Dunton.     i2mo.     $I.$o. 

An  American  sailor  boy  is  impressed  by  the  English  and 
is  present  at  Trafalgar  and  Nelson's  death.  The  story  con- 
cludes with  a  sea-fight  in  our  own  War  of  1812. 

"  Most  interesting  .  .  .  certain  to  be  enjoyed  by  any  intelligent 
boy." — Outlook. 

"  A  rattling  good  story." — Philadelphia  Press. 

'•  A  boy  ol  whom  all  '  Yankees  '  may  be  proud  ...  is  entertaining, 
oftentimes  thrilling.  Nor  is  there  anything  improbable  about  it;  the 
boy  is  honest  and  true,  and  the  whole  tone  of  the  book  is  invigorating." 
—Chicago  Tribune. 

Prince   Henry's  Sailor  Boy 

By  OTTO   VON  BRUNECK.     Freely  Translated  and 
Adapted  by  MARY  J.  SAFFORD 

With  illustrations  by  George  A.  Williams.      I2mo.     $1.50. 

A  tale  of  life  in  the  German  Navy  to-day.  Claus  Erichsen 
goes  to  Japan,  China,  Africa,  and  elsewhere,  and  has  a  few 
troubles,  but  many  more  jolly  adventures. 

"  Well  written  and  interesting." — Dial. 

"  A  complete  and,  we  are  sure,  able  picture  of  the  life  lived  by  a 
German  sailor  lad.  ...  A  brisk,  interesting  plot." — Providence  Journal. 

"  Excellently  adapted  to  the  taste  of  American  youth  ...  a  first- 
rate  story.  .  .  .  It  has  plenty  of  adventure."— Philadelphia  Press. 

"Told  in  a  way  ro  keep  the  young  eyes  steadily  at  work  from  the 
first  page." — Washington  Star. 

Henry      Holt      and     Company 

Publishers  fix,  '05)  New  York 


THE  LUCK  OF  THE  DUDLEY  GRAHAMS 

By  ALICE  CALHOUN  HAINES.      Illustrated  by  FRANCIS  DAY.     $1.50 
For  girls  from  10  to  16  years 

How  the  family  were  poor  and  kept  a  boarding- 
house;  how  they  lost  their  boarders,  and  were  poorer 
still ;  how  Ernie,  the  little  sister,  persisted  in  looking 
for  the  lost  "  Dump-Cart  contract,"  which  would  mean 
so  many  good  things  if  only  it  could  be  found;  and 
whether  in  the  end  she  found  it.  There  were  funny 
things  that  happened,  too;  and  these  are  also  told. 


live,   bright  children  make  the  best  of  restricted  conditions  and  prove 
themselves  masters  of  circumstances." — Christian  Register. 

"  By  far  the  most  entertaining  book  for  children  that  we  have  read  in 
many  months  .  .  .  this  healthy  little  book  contains  a  genuine  literary 
style,  irresistible  humor,  and  a  train  of  episodes  which  cannot  fail  to 
hold  the  attention  and  delight  the  hearts  of  young  readers." — The 
Churchman. 

THE  YOUNGSTERS  OF  CENTERVILLE 

By  ETTA  ANTHONY  BAKER.       Illustrated  by  FRANCIS  DAY,     $1.50 
For  boys  and  girls  from  10  to  16  years 

Tells  of  the  ball  game,  the  prize  contest,  the  exhi- 
bition, the  parties,  and  other  good  times  the  Center- 
ville  boys  and  girls  enjoyed  as  part  of  the  celebrations 
of  the  dozen  important  school  and  national  holidays. 
These  are  good,  amusing  stories  of  natural  boys  and 
girls,  their  school  and  their  friendships. 

"  Boys  and  girls  .  .  .  full  of  mischief  and  as  captivating  as  real 
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suitable  for  reading  aloud." — Springfield  Republican. 

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humor,  inculcate  the  love  of  country  and  rouse  an  interest  in  history. 
There  are  four  good  pictures  by  Francis  Day,  and  it  it  attractively 
bound." — Chicago  Evening  Post. 

A  BOOK  OF  VERSES  FOR  CHILDREN 

Compiled    by    EDWARD    V.    LUCAS.      Over   200  poems  from   eighty 
authors.     Revised  edition,  $2.00  net.    Popular  edition,  $1.00  net 

"We  know  of  no  other  anthology  for  children  so  complete  and  well 
arranged." — The  Critic. 

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By  CARROLL   WATSON    RANKIN 
TWO  STORIES  FOR  GIRLS 

Dandelion     Cottage 

Illustrated  by  Mmes.  SHINN  and  FINLEY.    $1.50 

Four  young  girls  secure  the  use  of  a  tumble-down 
cottage,  on  condition  that  they  shall  keep  the  grounds 
in  order.  They  set  up  housekeeping  under  numerous 
disadvantages,  and  have  many  amusements  and  queer 
experiences. 

'•'A  capital  story.  It  is  refreshing  to  come  upon  an  author 
who  can  tell  us  about  real  little  girls,  with  sensible,  ordinary 
parents,  girls  who  are  neither  phenomenal  nor  silly.  Simple, 
wholesome,  and  withal  most  entertaining."— Outlook. 

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Dial. 

"  The  story  is  one  of  cheerfulness  and  fun,  and  is  to  be  warmly 
commended  as  one  of  the  best  of  the  season,"— Boston  Herald. 

"  The  story  is  a  story  for  its  own  sake,  brightly  and  cheerfully 
told." — Chicago  Tribune. 

The  Girls  of  Gardenville 

Illustrated  by  MARY  WELLMAN.     12 mo.    $1.50 

Interesting,  amusing,  and  natural  stories  of  a  girls' 
club — "The  Sweet  Sixteen"  of  Gardenville.  The 
doings  of  these  girls  at  home,  among  themselves  assem- 
bled, or  on  excursions,  are  pleasantly,  healthfully,  and 
wholesomely  related. 

"It  is  pleasant  to  have  another  book  about  a  group  of  merry, 
natural  girls,  who  have  the  attractions  of  innocence  and  youth- 
ful faults.  'The  Sweet  Sixteen  '  Club  made  fudge,  and  went  on 
picnics,  and  behaved  just  as  jolly,  nice  maidens  should."—  Out- 
look. 

"  The  same  cheerfulness  of  activity  that  hovered  around  '  Dan 
delion  Cottage'  is  perceptible  around  'The  Girls  of  Garden 
ville  '"—  Chicago  Tribune. 

"  Will  captivate  as  many  adults  as  if  it  were  written  for  them 
.  .  .  The  secret  of  Mrs.   Rankin's  charm  is  her  naturalness 
real  girls  .  .  .  not  young  ladies  with  '  pigtails,'  but  girls  of  six 
teen  who  are    not    twenty- five— deserves   much   credit  ...  as 
original  as  amusing  .  .  .  positively  refreshing."—  Boston  Tran- 
script. 

Henry   Holt    and  Company 

Publbhers  (viii '06)  Ncw  Yorlc 


By    MARION    A.    TAGGART 

AUTHOR    OF   "  THE    LITTLE    GREY    HOUSE,"  "  MISS    LOCHINVAR,"    ETC. 

Two    Stories    for  Young    Folks 
DADDY'S    DAUGHTERS 

Illustrated  by  G.  W.  BRECK.     $1.50 

"Daddy,"  an  admirable,  patient,  "literary"  man, 
who,  like  many  of  his  kind,  finds  it  a  trifle  hard  to  make 
both  ends  meet,  and  four  girls,  his  daughters,  are  dis- 
tinctly individualized.  More  girls  live  on  the  other 
side  of  Daddy's  garden  hedge  and  have  three  jolly 
brothers.  Their  adventures  and  home  life  make  a  book 
full  of  natural,  lively  young  folks  and  their  doings,  yet 
tinged  throughout  with  the  delicate  refinement  of  the 
sympathy  between  the  artistic  father  and  his  girls. 

"  A  lot  of  sound,  hearty  children  provide  the  proper  sort  of 
fun."-JV.  Y.  Sun. 

"  Miss  Taggart's  pleasant  story  is  admirably  adapted,  not  only 
to  the  tastes  but  also  to  the  needs  of  young  girls.  May  be  heartily 
commended."— Providence  Journal. 

NUT   BROWN    JOAN 

With  frontispiece  and  decorations    by  BLANCHE  OSTERTAG 

#1.50 

Joan  is  an  energetic,  lovable  girl,  who  has  all  the 
fun  and  most  of  the  tro  ubles  of  a  member  of  a  large 
family.  Her  experiences,  when  the  cares  of  a  house- 
hold fall  on  her  shoulders,  will  strongly  appeal  to  any 
girl's  housekeeping  instincts  ;  while  her  love  of  fun, 
and  especially  her  friendships,  will  find  sympathetic  re- 
sponse in  the  hearts  of  older  boys  and  girls. 

"A  wholesome  and  pretty  story  of  a  family  of  young  people 
not  the  least  attractive  of  whom  is  their  ugly  duckling,  Nut 
Brown  Joan.  Her  pleasant  fellowship  with  a  boy  nicknamed 
Darby  is  one  of  the  nice  things  in  this  little  homely  history." — 
Outlook. 

"  A  story  for  older  girls,  well  worth  while,  and  one  which  it 
will  be  well  to  bear  in  mind  for  a  gift  at  the  holiday  season." — 
Brooklyn  Eagle. 

Henry  Holt  and  Company 

Publishers  liv,  '07)  New  York 


STIRRING  MYSTERY  STORIES 

ANGEL   ESQUIRE 

By  EDGAB  WALLACE.    12mo,  $1.50. 

A  rattling  good  detective  story  in  which  an  inexperienced  girl 
has  to  contend  with  three  unscrupulous  and  daring  criminals  for 
millions  strangely  bequeathed  to  one  of  the  four. 

"Inspiring  originality.  Mr.  Edgar  Wallace  has  achieved  the  impossible. 
He  has  written  a  detective  story  having  for  its  hero  a  type  absolutely  new. 
Moreover,  to  make  his  book  completely  fascinating,  he  puts  before  his  hero 
a  problem  of  refreshing  fantasticality.  The  story  grows  breathlessly  excit- 
ing. Through  its  thrilling  developments,  Angel  Ksquire  moves  with  an  airy 
aplomb  that  is  irresistible.  All  the  time  he  is  smiling,  full  of  quaintuess 
and  humor." — N.  Y.  Tribune. 


By  BURTON  E.  STEVENSON 
THAT  AFFAIR  AT   ELIZABETH 

Another  story  in  which  Lester,  the  young  lawyer,  and  Godfrey, 
the  reporter,  play  the  part  of  detectives  in  unraveling  a  modern 
mystery.  $1.50. 

"  A  well-constructed  detective  story  .  .  .  surround  ing  the  disappearance 
of  a  bride  a  few  minutes  before  the  hour  set  for  her  wedding.  A  murder  is 
committed  at  about  the  time  of  her  vanishing,  and  the  two  stories  are  vig- 
orously interwoven,  being  worked  out  to  a  surprising  conclusion." — 
Chicago  Post. 

"  Starts  with  a  capital  situation.  .  .  .  The  reader  is  utterly  unable  to 
guess  at  the  secret.'1—^.  Y.  Tribune. 

THE  MARATHON   MYSTERY 

The  story  of  a  strange  happening  in  a  New  York  apartment 
house,  and  at  a  Long  Island  house  party.  The  plot  is  unusual, 
full  of  surprises;  the  handling  is  masterful.  It  has  been  repub- 
lished  in  England  and  Germany.  With  five  scenes  in  color  by 
ELIOT  KEEN.  $1.50. 

"The  author  ha*  stepped  at  once  to  the  front  ranks  among  American 
writers  of  detective  tales  ...  a  yarn  with  genuine  thrills." — Bookman. 

"  Distinctly  an  interesting  story — one  of  the  sort  that  the  reader  will  not 
lay  down  before  he  goes  to  bed." — New  York  Sun. 

THE   HOLLADAY  CASE 

This  remarkable  story  begins  with  the  finding  of  a  New  York 
banker  stabbed  to  death  in  his  office.  Suspicion  falls  on  his 
daughter.  A  kidnapping  and  pursuit  over  seas  follow.  The 
story  contains  a  minimum  of  horror  and  a  maximum  of  ingenu- 
ity, and  the  mystery  is  kept  up  to  the  next  [to  last  chapter. 
With  frontispiece  by  ELIOT  KEEN.  $1.25. 

"  A  good  detective  story,  and  it  is  the  better  because  the  part  of  the  hero 
is  not  filled  by  a  member  of  the  profession.    .    .    .    The  reader  will  not  want 
to  out  the  book  down  until  be  has  reached  the  last 
constru 


t  the  book  down  until  he  has  reached  the  last  page.    Most  ingeniously 
ructed  and  well  written  into  the  bargain." — N.  Y.  Tribune. 


HENRY     HOLT     AND     COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS  NEW  YORK 


STANDARD  CYCLOPAEDIAS   FOR  YOUNG    OR    OLD 

CHAMPLIN'S 

YOUNG  FOLKS'  CYCLOPAEDIAS 

By  JOHN  D.  CHAMPLIN 

Late  Associate  Editor  of  the  American  Cyclopadia 
Bound  in  substantial  red  buckram.     Each  volume  complete 
in  itself  and  sold  separately.      I2mo,  $3.00  per  volume,  retail 

COMMON    THINGS 

New,  Enlarged  Edition,  850  pp.    Profusely  Illustrated 

"A  book  which  will  be  of  permanent  value  to  any  boy  or  girl  to 
whom  it  may  be  given,  and  which  fills  a  place  in  the  juvenile  library, 
never,  so  far  as  I  know,  supplied  before." — Susan  Coolidge, 

PERSONS  AND  PLACES 

New,  Up-to-Date  Edition,  985  pp.  Over  3  75  Illustrations 
"  We  know  copies  of  the  work  to  which  their  young  owners  turn 
instantly  for  information  upon  every  theme  about  which  they  have 
questions  to  ask.  More  than  this,  we  know  that  some  of  these  copies 
are  read  daily,  as  well  as  consulted ;  that  their  owners  turn  the  leaves 
as  they  might  those  of  a  fairy  book,  reading  intently  articles  of  which 
they  had  not  thought  before  seeing  them,  and  treating  the  book  simply 
as  one  capable  of  furnishing  the  rarest  entertainment  in  ezhaustless 
quantities." — N.  Y.  Evening  Post. 

LITERATURE  AND  ART 

604  pp.     270  Illustrations 

*'  Few  poems,  plays.'novels,  pictures,  statues,  or  fictitious  characters 
that  children — or  most  of  their  parents — of  our  day  are  likely  to  inquire 
about  will  be  missed  here.  Mr.  Champlin's  judgment  seems  unusually 
sound.1' — The  Nation. 

GAMES  AND  SPORTS 

By  JOHN  D.  CHAMPLIN  and  ARTHUR  BOSTWICK 
Revised  Edition,  784  pp.     900  Illustrations 

"  Should  form  a  part  of  every  juvenile  library,  whether  public  Of 
private." — The  Independent. 

NATURAL    HISTORY 

By  JOHN  D.  CHAMPLIN,  assisted  by  FREDERICK  A.  LUCAS 
725  pp.     Over  800  Illustrations 

"Here,  in  compact  and  attractive  form,  is  valuable  and  reliable  in- 
formation on  every  phase  of  natural  history,  on  every  item  of  interest 
to  the  student.  Invaluable  to  the  teacher  and  school,  and  should  be  on 
every  teacher's  desk  for  ready  reference,  and  the  children  should  be 
taught  to  go  to  this  volume  for  information  useful  and  interesting."— 
Journal  of  Education. 

HENRY    HOLT    AND     COMPANY 

NEW  YORK  (ii,  \*)  CHICAGO 


University  of  California 

SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

405  Hilgard  Avenue,  Los  Angeles,  CA  90024-1388 

Return  this  material  to  the  library 

from  which  it  was  borrowed. 


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